So restless. Feel like a rubberband, stretching and condensing. House not sold. Hot buyers have bought elsewhere so back to square one. Panic thinking. Contact previous prospective buyers, say we'll accept your offer? No, they've bought elsewhere. So we sit and wait again. Hence my restlessness. In my imagination we were already moved. Difficult to remain centered and here. I want to be exploring and there.
Why is it so difficult to trust in the rightness of the Universe? Rather, why is it so difficult for me to trust in the rightness of my Universe? Feel like I'm battering at the bars of a cage. Let me out! Feel trapped by this house, by my marriage (how dare I admit it, when any kernel of goodness I possess compels me to stay here and be true to this loving man who needs me in the hours of his illness - how guilty I feel admitting this. And he knows, compels me with his words of love and devotion not to leave him when he needs me now and will need me more as time passes and his illness progresses. Trapped trapped trapped. Self-pitying shit that I am when most of the world is glad just to have shelter and food).
It comes down to - How dare I want more than I have? How dare I be unhappy? How dare I be anything but overjoyed and thankful?
Then there are days when I just breathe thank you thank you thank you for the pure joy of breathing beauty that is there for the taking.
But those days are not this day. Maybe there is something in just being honest with myself. That it is okay not to be perfect, to be resentful sometimes and frightened. To admit that I do not have the strength of character to change my mood at whim, to turn fear into gratitude, like bread into toast. I'm doughy and yeasty and easily flattened. Today I am flat. Tomorrow toast!
No comments:
Post a Comment