A bit of a southern snow storm and, perhaps, the fact that my latest book project is done – well, not entirely but we’ll get to that later – seem to have calmed my busy goddesses last night. We slept.
And woke to the silent falling of more snow.
Not enough to be a real problem, but enough to allow for my filters to shift just a bit. For my eyes to remind me that change is both inevitable and possible.
And so I have spent a couple of hours staring out at the garden, watching the snow flakes drift hypnotically toward the ground as a weighted blanket of white transforms the landscape around me.
At least most of a couple of hours.
I can’t help noticing that, in the midst of these quiet moments, I keep reaching for my phone, searching, I suspect, for assurance that my usual world goes on.
Watching for an email about my Amazon order that did not, in fact, arrive by 9:00 last night. (Which wouldn’t be such a big deal if it didn’t include the canvas for the painting class that starts today and gifts for my girls which need to go with me when Christmas starts early in our lives…next week!)
And a message from the awesome guy who delivered most of the dog food on Thursday and is supposed to arrive with the rest in the next hour or so. (Can’t send the beasties to Camp without groceries!)
And a couple of book reviews I’m hoping for.
With all that noticing going on, like the narrative sort of therapist I am, there must be a bit of wondering as well.
Am I electronically addicted? No.
Am I a bit anxious about the number of metaphorical plates I’m trying to keep spinning in the air just now? So it would seem.
Am I tending space for change, knowing that even the most longed-for of changes are inherently stressful? Yep!
Now, here’s where things get tricky!
For what changes, specifically, am I tending space? Who knows???
Or, as the old Quaker saying goes:
In order to learn, we must be willing to be changed.
We must open ourselves to the advent of newness. It’s a good time of year for that.
So, I keep setting the phone back down and reaching, instead, for my mug, comforting with hot water and lemon, while I huddle under my own magic weighted blanket and take deep breaths, watching the snow flakes drift hypnotically toward the ground.
And mentally orchestrating a book release for next week!
Should your goddesses, like mine, have a tendency to keep you awake, click here to check out the Mosaic weighted blanket thing.
And, lest you be worried, the dog food has appeared!