I found that I had to learn how to rest, because I'm not good at it. Frankly, rest sucks.
I'm doing a bit better working part time as a cleaner. I haven't gotten time on my own like I wanted, because in this "training period" I have been working with others whom I feel I have to entertain (simply out of my own habit). But I've only been working an average of 15 hours a week, so it hasn't been too onerous.
I have learned that when vacuuming long halls, the most essential thing is cord management. I'm sure there's a spiritual principle here, but I haven't figured it out.
I have learned that those who work very well are the people you don't want training you, because all they want to do is work, not teach.
The work I'm doing is cleaning apartments, hallways and offices. It's strange because I feel that I'm on the opposite end of disgust from my previous work. Before, I had to learn to push down my disgust at how others were living so I could help them. Now I am cleaning apartments so a person who would be disgusted by a eyelash in a drawer in their apartment they just rented wouldn't be offended. It's a strange transition.
I feel guilt because I wasn't there for everyone, the way I should have.
But I have nothing to feel guilty about, as well.
No, I couldn't open the day shelters, but I made sure that shelters were open during the worst times, made sure they had enough food and enough blankets. I spent a lot of time on the phone in the worst nights and I spent a lot of time transporting goods. And I scanned the streets looking for the homeless who might be in danger.
Then there is every Friday in which me and my friends gathered thousands of pounds of food and distributed them broadly. I have nothing to be guilty about.
But my lack of activity eats at me, still.
I guess I still have a ways to go before I can achieve any kind of balance in my life.