The decision has been made – it is time for us to move on to the next stage of life.
The house will be sold and we shall look for a smaller, rental apartment. It hasn’t been easy coming to this conclusion, and it won’t be easy making the transition, but excitement is part of the equation.
We will be moving back to the city, closer to family, and doctors, and all conveniences.
Now the purge and pack begins.
Acceptance, wisdom, and openness are at my side: three gifts to guide me.
I dream that I am teaching again, and having assigned the class independent work, I am spending time connecting with each student to see if they are grasping the material. It’s my favourite part of teaching, and I wake up wondering if I’ll ever have that feeling again. So rewarding.
It is bittersweet, growing old. Many of life’s goals have been achieved, and yet, the desire for more still exists. At least, it does for me. I’m just not sure what to do about it.
I side with mundanity caution-led momentum still, anxiety interjects
Every day presents beauty wonder, and where am I? Slinking away from some black dog – collared and distant
Life offers me a bridge and I shrink, ducking into sheltered viewpoints praying the moment passes me by
No wonder the black dog catches me, straining its leash to sniff this trembling old woman its handler oblivious to the fear mounting in the room
I will project the spots of the past into silent scenarios, and brace myself as if riding a tiger – unprepared and hanging on for life
Avoidance is a fool’s game for life is challenge and if I’m honest it’s not the dark that quickens but rather that which resides within  I am the black dog – collared and distant I am my spotted past and I am, in essence the spirit of the tiger
And I am the very shelter that I seek open-doored and ever-present for every weary passerby
My walls may be worn my countenance aging but I am not without purpose
I shall seek out bridges and contain these nerves and cross into the unknown instinct and intuition intact
Love’s waters rise defy the impossibility of our sedentary walls tides and emotions like sculptors reshaping the contours of opposition, softening the places where hearts meet.