3.2.18 Rainy day in the garden
Today I sat with half a dozen half-formed thoughts on my lap and wondered what to do. They have climbed up there every time I have tried to rest this last week, like new children peering up at me, watching to see what I'll do next.
I'm a little lost at the moment. Very little is getting done. There is that tight, hot feeling that comes before change, when you know things can't stay the same for much longer. I don't know what it all means yet, I've just been alive long enough now to feel when the wheel starts to turn again. I have new lessons to learn, I think. New risks to take. And probably things to let go of too, because isn't that how it always goes?
I'm trying not to brace this time or to rush towards it in panic. I'm trying to remember that change doesn't always need to be dramatic or forced and you don't always need to try and claw it into an impressive story to tell. Whatever this is that's coming, I want to slip into it like walking into rain.
Maybe it isn't anything after all and I am just tired. Maybe it's simply the season turning that I feel and nothing to do with me at all.
In any case, I'm going to sit and wait right here, lap full, heart open. There's no rush, is there.