Torch
Category: thoughts
Resilience
Boxes are filling up around us. We’re making a dent in our to-do lists. Doubt seeps in. Are we doing the right thing?
Then I remember all the reasons behind making this choice and affirm:
We are dismantling one life to build another, purposeful existence.
No Longer Willing
Growing up, I thrived on being the responsible one. Need something done, someone to bail you out, an issue to be confronted – I was your girl. Until I wasn’t anymore. One day something snapped in me and that house of cards came tumbling down.
Sometimes it’s hard to see the ugly truth and yet, seeing with clarity is the only thing that helps us break the destructive cycles.
Responsibility
You are not responsible for everything. Be accountable. Strive to be self-aware. Know that there is so much more at work than you could ever carry on your own, so don’t even try.
Note to self.
New Dawn
I think we are all feeling the need for a new dawn.
Monday Mood: watchful
Feeling like this cat in the long grass – unable to see what’s ahead and patiently (or impatiently) watching for a sign.
Tasks are lined up this morning to prepare for another house showing, and then the wait.
And so it goes.
Perfection: a note to self
Back to back showings and an Open House Saturday, and I’m falling into the perfectionism trap.
Then I found this note I’d written to my younger self:
Discard the concept of perfection:
choose to embrace vulnerability
and imperfection as fertile ground.
Taking comfort in my own words.
Monday Mood: cautious
… or maybe the word is precarious.
The ‘for sale’ sign went up on the house Thursday. The ad online activated Friday afternoon. We’d already had a viewing scheduled before the listing went live.
In the meantime, we’ve been scrambling to pack up the excess and make this house presentable. It’s more work than remembered and we are both exhausted.
Another showing tomorrow, video-taping on Thursday, and an Open House on Saturday, and I’m afraid to admit that I feel a cold hovering.
So, yes, I’m feeling cautiously optimistic, and aware of the precariousness of my physical health.
Might need that ladder.
On Silence
“When you sit in silence long enough, you learn that silence has a motion. It glides like water. Its colour is silver. And silence has a sound you hear only after hours of wading inside it. The sound is soft, like flute notes rising up, like the words of glass speaking. Then there comes a point when you must shatter the blindness of its words the blindness of its light.”
Growing up fifth of six kids, I learned that life was chaos and noise. It was where I thrived. Always shared a room, and later, an apartment, and marriage, and my own children, and when finally silence found me, it was shattering. It took a long while for me to appreciate the gift in silence, and like anything in life, I had to learn not to rest there too long.
Balance and moderation. That’s what I seek.
But, oh, I do love silence.
The Quest
