It's the first day of my 12 week sabbatical. I get quite embarrassed talking about it actually. I feel bad that mine seems to be the only profession that offers such a thing and even then my Anglican friends get them only every ten years.... if they're lucky. I guess I know that if I don't pay attention to the condition of my own soul in a really intentional way then I'm going to end up totally ineffectual at best or out of ministry and probably in a nut house at worst.
After working really hard to get my "desk cleared", staying up all night to watch the election, overseeing Forest Fire, getting three hours sleep on Saturday after collecting yp from an event and burning midnight oil into the early hours of this morning I feel knackered.
And so it's my core stability class (I arrived bang on 2pm) and I'm laying on a mat breathing gently and trying to stay engaged with what the physio is saying, desperately trying to stay awake. Trying but failing. Falling asleep wouldn't have been so bad but it turns out I was snoring.
Think I need a rest. As I write the ferry is just pulling into Yarmouth.... 4 days of solitude. A bible, a notebook, John Grisham and a book about dead Christians.......soooooo looking forward to it.
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