Resting

It is shortly before 11a on Saturday. I am resting because I am tired, but there is shame in the resting. There is shame because the dishes are stacked high, the laundry is even higher, and there are piles of boxes that came out from my work van scattered throughout my house. 

Boys to entertain/train in the other room, a class to finish for a Monday time slot, and 2 soccer games to coach this afternoon add to the demand. 

I am resting because I am on the verge of freaking out. I need to be centered. There should not be shame, but shame existing only reinforces my need to be centered and travel back to my heart.