When I forgave everyone for everything and made the last amend I could think of, the storm abated, and I realised that storms are mostly ordinary air moving really quickly. None of the drama was essentially real.
It took longer than it maybe might have before I did this: I was attached to the nightmare in which I was largely the victim and sometimes the monster at the same time. I understand the attraction now: I was the hero of the dream. To give up the victimhood, I had to be willing to leave the stage.
Letting go of the need to be something and even do something frees up the whole afternoon. And then I get to occupy myself fruitfully like a bee or a cat or water finding its own level, doing what nature had clearly intended all along.