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Because that is how I feel right now.

Jonathan was away last weekend seeing friends on a glorious trip to Jamaica. I was jealous. But he brought me back a picture I love, and I got some blessed time to myself.

As I read my self help books, worked on my novel, played with my children and cooked crepes, I realized I am depleted.

If I were a field of grass I would be a dry, tired, hay-like patch with dirt showing through. The kind of patch where you wonder if anything will ever grow there again. Something might--with water and sun. Or, it might be too far gone, over-traveled and worn out and unfertilized and barren.

For years now I have nurtured others. And, it has been a surprise to find this out about myself, but I like nurturing others. I like finding the hidden part of people's souls that needs to be nurtured and loved and drawn out, and pulling out of people. I like being the soul prospector who can see the beauty and help people, at least in some small way, along their way. And that is what I try to do for my husband and my children.

I am not perfect.

But I watch for flashes of brilliance, of interest, of exhaustion, of light, and I tend and encourage and nurture.

I do this freely, because I know that I know how to nurture myself. I know what I need to feel alive, to feel happy, to feel nourished.

I need to ride waves and dance with abandon. I need to cook with spices and have crazy wonderful sex. I need to travel and take in new places with all my senses wide open. I need to write and write and write. I need to sing and be around music. I need time alone.

And I find now, after years of taking care of others, that I am in the same depressing place as a million women who have come before me. I am losing myself through neglect.

I have chosen this path. I have chosen to be home and witness my boys as they grow. I love watching my husband becoming a better writer, and seeing my boys develop into incredible little people. Some of that is me. My time. My love. My being there.

But I find myself dreaming of someone who will swoop in and nurture me. Who will pull me back up on my feet, and feed me the food I need to eat. Who will look at me and say, you need to jump in the ocean, write a book, climb a mountain, paint a picture, do some belly dancing. Let me cook you something wonderful. I want someone to tend to my soul!

But I am a grown up. I know the only person who can do that for me is myself.

Still, I wish.

And as sun returns to the earth and the days grow longer again (thank god!!!!!) I feel a need to cut my hair and reinvent myself. So perhaps this sadness, this feeling of barrenness, is just the slow growing, germinating, quiet time that will explode into wonderful things.

In the meantime, for today, I blog to nurture my soul.

To say: I am here!