In the dining room amongst stacks of boxes, sun going down, kitty watching me from a pile of tissue. I’m unpacking some medium sized boxes, densely packed with dozens upon dozens of carefully, individually wrapped glass and china. I’m listening to “Snap Judgment” on NPR, in a zone…a trance…”storytelling with a beat”.
Smoothing out a piece of paper after unearthing another familiar precious object I hadn’t seen in 2 months, I stopped in my tracks.Have you ever had that feeling in the morning when you’re in a fog, take a swig of delicious hot coffee and suddenly the warmth flows through you, the fog has lifted and you are in the present?
That was it.
The feeling that this is real.
This is home.
For the past 3 months, I’ve been in a different place. I don’t know if it’s a defense mechanism, survival tactic…probably both. There was so much to do, so many emotions, so much to manage, excitement, decisions to make, strings to pull, feelings hurt, puzzle pieces to fit together, mountains to move, wells to shout down…it was all focus.
I had short-term goals broken down so I wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. I had lists, records, spreadsheets, push
push to get to the next step. And now we’re here.
And it’s kinda nice.