Not that anything is wrong. It’s just that if life were tectonic plates, they’d be shifting underneath me with a bit of a shimmied rumble right now. There’s movement enough that books could be slipping from the shelves. Dishes in the cupboard are a-rattling.
No need for stagnation. Moving and shaking is good. Just a bit disconcerting at times.
And it’s interesting to see how big change can weave through my days and my being, coloring my practices.
I’m sleeping a bit more. Then coming to my writing screen, sometimes, a bit less inspired.
This morning I sit and seek clues. My eyes rest on the sheet of paper called “Movie Recommendations” found in yesterday’s office drawer sorting project. There is a sub-group of titles under the category of the theme “Stepping Out of Doubts and Fears.” My glance lands on the last of the list, “Touching the Void.”
I’ve seen the movie. My situation is not the same, but maybe I’m living my own tamer version of facing the unknown. This morning I reach fingers deep into the soil of me and find layers unidentified. Not necessarily a void, but nothing substantive either. Maybe if I dug deeper more could be felt.
And then all of a sudden, I remember it’s May 29th. That exactly six months ago the Bohemian and I got married. I see that he tackled the pile of dirty silverware in the sink and all is now sparkling in the dish drainer. I am touched. I am touching something.
Underneath moving boxes, budget projections, and math homework, there is an essence quite substantial, and it’s bigger than a name. As a big as a void and somehow connected.
It seems to understand about shifting plates – the ones below the surface and the ones on my shelf. Perhaps it’s the very force that moves them.
This morning there is no more time to think about it. No image to accompany this post. I can’t even seek shelter in a doorway. Time to move about the world while it all quakes beneath me.
Enjoy the ride.