The State Of Things

The body was meant to sweat.  Sweat and relax.  Work and decompress.  I do more eating and commuting these days than anything else, but still – I remember the feeling.  It’s coming back to me like riding a bike.  The feeling of giving over to physical exhaustion.


Mental exhaustion is another thing entirely.  Mental exhaustion is when you’ve worked a puzzle in your head so many times that you literally need to stare off into space.  Which is a real thing, by the way, staring off into space – it’s a proven way for your brain to take five.


Physical decompressing is something different.  Your muscles give way.  Right now, I’m lying in a hammock and I can feel it in my lower back – a loosening, an openness.  I haven’t earned this feeling, but I’m so glad my body is giving over to it anyway.


That’s the other thing we’re missing when we’re moving and commuting and working and preoccupied with nonsense. With our minds trained on other things, there’s little to zeroj tune-in to the body itself.  At the moment, I’m feeling – deliciously – the opposite.  I can feel the throb of my neck muscle and then the release.  The tension in my forearms and shoulder blades as I write this.  I’m totally and completely aware of it all.  My eyes are in a half stare because I don’t really need them right now.  My stomach – loose and relaxed, the lower back almost mimicking it in a quest to win, “most chilled out body part.”  Just the the telling of this physical inventory makes my whole body stretch.


My legs are cradled in the hammock giving me no trouble at all, one perched over the other.  Two delightful snausages happy to be out on the counter.




I’m outside and realize that I’ve been longing for this.  Craving some distance from the fluorescent lighting, computer screens, and tight fiber, rugs.  I’m craving the beach and blue skies and this tree in front of me, well, it’s just about perfect right now.  It’s huge.  Maybe 100 feet in the air.  It’s leaves are inter-mingling with another tree’s.  It doesn’t give a toot.  It just does and sways and reflects a vibrant green.




The dog is eating everything in sight.  Rocks.  Leaves.  He is the only disruption out of my reverie.  I’m swinging gently as I watch him tear a track through the backyard from left to right and right to left again.  He’s got so much energy and I love to watch him run.


It will get too hot at one point and this perfectness will go away.  It’s starting to happen now, the shade is creeping back towards the house.  Soon my little blissful swath of the universe will be too oppressive.  The sun will chase me back toward shelter and shade.  But, now, now, it’s perfect.  There’s a slight breeze making me feel like Madonna ponying up to an ultra-hip and expensive oxygen bar.  Only I don’t have to pay for it and I don’t have to deal with poser douchebags cruising the ladies with over priced drinks and bad conversation.  The only douchebags here are the occasional gnat.  And they’re easy to deal with – a swat and they’re gone.


My old lady dog has come over for some lovings.  I lazily reach down and knuckle the inside of her ear in those wide circles she enjoys.  There’s peace at the suburban villa.


I never knew I’d like this all so much.  The city girl turned homeowner, hammock-swinger, but it suits me just fine.



Sweet Mother is updated once a week or so, in a lazy sort of way.  As always, I appreciate you reading.  If you’d like to enjoy more, there are over 300+ posts on this blog. Simply hit the “Read More Sweet Mother” section, above.



Photo credits:

treeonbeach, sausages, hammock


29 thoughts on “The State Of Things

  1. Your post reminds me that I haven’t taken enough time to just sit in my back yard and chill this summer. In past years, I’ve sat outside with a good book, but for two summers now, I’ve been so busy writing and editing, that I haven’t taken advantage of it like I should. Thanks for the wake-up call. :)

    1. hey there rubes, you know, it’s my first time with a backyard since I was a kid. so, i find myself overindulging in backyardness. the pool helps too. so much work, so much renovation happening, but when we can kick back, it’s just awesome. miss you guys and your blogs! xo, sm

  2. Yes! She is alive! Welcome back, Rebecca! I’ve missed you!

    How’re things? You never call, or write, or answer that tweet thing. It’s like you’ve forgotten all about your Foster! Ugh.

    (Forgive me, I have no idea why that sounded so much like a Jewish New Jersey Mother-In-Law. I swear I’m not any of the above…)

    As always, you’re post is timely, and wonderful to read. I really like how you compared your legs to sausages. Is that because they are tasty, or brown and plump?

    1. foster! i see your friendly face on fb from time to time and it makes momma smile. you can also speak to me like a jewish mother any time. i find it endearing. and as for snausages, mine aren’t that interesting, but have you seen that hot dogs or beach legs tumblr? good lawd, it’s genius! xo, sm

      1. Ah’m so glay-ad yew say-ed Ah kin do thay-at.

        (Oh, my god. That hideous parody is even worse. I am so sorry, love. I’ll try to never do that again.)

        If you weren’t married, and I not almost engaged (still waiting for an answer. Fingers crossed!), I’d say let me see those gams, and I’ll tell you how interesting they are, but since you are, and I am, I’ll take your word for it. ;) (Nah. you’re beautiful, Rebecca. Seriously.)

        No, I’ve not seen it. I’ll have to search for that one. Thanks.

  3. No hammock chez moi but the air is clean away from the big city smells, and the grass is so green it almost glows. My fruit trees are covered in blossoms and I’m already dreaming of a crop of sun ripened fruit. Life’s good in the burbs. :) So glad to hear from you. -hugs-

  4. I have sent my spirit to swing in that hammock with you, so well done I could feel myself relaxing right along side. Perfect. Have missed you so this was a spectacular reminder of why! So glad you are enjoying home ownership and the perks of same.

    1. vals, thank you for the superbly enjoyable comment. i’d like to wrap you all up here in my comments section and set you all up in a row of hammocks. i truly would. as for me, buying a new home is cray cray. especially renovating one. but, it was good to write for a second again. and also very good to reconnect with you all. much love, sm

  5. I love how a place can help you create a sense of peace. And then each time you get into that hammock or look at that tree it will remind your back to loosen. Or your eyes to rest. Or your body to let go. I’m probably due for some good connections with a natural space – summer went by so quickly!

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