These last days I am all mixed up and by the time I unpack my thoughts, unfurl my feelings, I find they have come loose and blown away. The wind just keeps changing on me.
My feelings move on before the ink has dried, my thoughts drift and I’m kind of tired of trying to re-find myself on the map.
I am lost on a blustery day. Nothing seems to stick except my breathless irritation at having to push and lean and strain at every step. Nothing is stable or certain. I am walking in a wind tunnel whilst everyone around is picnicking in the sunshine….
I was all prepared to leave for the new job a world away in the morning. I’d psyched myself, done the pep talk, said goodbyes, packed my bags, bought the rubber boots… and then today I got a call to say that it has been postponed.
What the heck am I going to do with rubber boots in the UK in August? You can see I’m focusing on the critical issues..
I have been paused by the open door, my steps have been stopped. Now I need to empty out my bags and find some way to fill a few vacant weeks.
Last night I was anxious at leaving, now I am fretful at staying. I don’t feel ready to go but it feels like time to leap. I can’t see where to get to but I need to be moving. It would be good to feel just one thing at a time for just a little while…. good to know what is grief, what is life and what is me (or should I say mes?) .
I am asking myself what does this weather mean? Why this now? Why not just yes or no? Perhaps the answer is just that the story unfolds, but there are, and always have been, bumps in the road.
I’m wondering where I will find myself when the winds still, when my plurals are made singular. It’s true that there is no place like home but I feel like it’s time I got my ass over that rainbow ….