Rainmorning
Aug. 7th, 2010 08:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greenstormIt's morning. It's raining. I haven't written a single word in two days, which is unusual for me lately-- since the beginning of June I've been either paper journalling or writing here basically everyday. I might miss one but not two until now.
Angus is away at Shambhala till Monday night/Tuesday morning. I'm left free, untethered-- with no one to know or care where I am or what I do except myself. Work has been stressful lately, there have been deadlines and funny things to do that aren't within the normal realm of wandering around and tending things. Now I've been unceremoniously slid into a long weekend of my own making, too busy to see it coming until now-- I open my eyes in bed alone and it's raining and I'm accoun
Except myself.
I have a lot to do today. I've been neglecting my rattery far too much; I need to clean some cages and run a baby up to meet her new owner, but also update my website some and answer some emails (Sarah-- yours is among them). There's also farmer's market and I'd dearly like to make chicken soup with one of the chickens in my freezer. This weekend I am supposed to spend some significant time with the Writer watching a bunch of West Wing as well, but what with one thing and another this may get whittled to just some time.
There's been a fair amount of stuff on my mind lately. I'm navigating my life fairly well right now, but I'm encountering some half-familiar waters in the realm of friendship and, um... I guess the term is 'romance'... that are murky to me. I can't see through them into either people's intentions and behaviour or into the future. I realise you can never really see into the future, but sometimes you get a general idea.
I should believe that the future is all change; I should believe that everything will be different in awhile, because, well, it will be. This part of my life has set up such a lovely and strong holding pattern, though, that I can almost believe in continuity.
Last night I went for dinner with my mom. She was talking about the time she lived in Japan, about how when she'd been there four months and it was time to come back it was hard to leave. She had a home there, friends, habits, a circle of people and behaviours. She had left the very same thing here, had a home to go back to, all that-- but it was still hard to come back.
I didn't know how to tell her that, in my life, I almost always feel like I am leaving everything, all the time. Any time the wheel of behaviours and people turns a full circle and takes me back into familiar people and territory I am, not surprised, but grateful.
I don't know if other people have this experience with their own lives, but I suspect not often.
This is incoherent rambling, I have nothing real to say, but it feels good to write. Now to get some work done...
Angus is away at Shambhala till Monday night/Tuesday morning. I'm left free, untethered-- with no one to know or care where I am or what I do except myself. Work has been stressful lately, there have been deadlines and funny things to do that aren't within the normal realm of wandering around and tending things. Now I've been unceremoniously slid into a long weekend of my own making, too busy to see it coming until now-- I open my eyes in bed alone and it's raining and I'm accoun
Except myself.
I have a lot to do today. I've been neglecting my rattery far too much; I need to clean some cages and run a baby up to meet her new owner, but also update my website some and answer some emails (Sarah-- yours is among them). There's also farmer's market and I'd dearly like to make chicken soup with one of the chickens in my freezer. This weekend I am supposed to spend some significant time with the Writer watching a bunch of West Wing as well, but what with one thing and another this may get whittled to just some time.
There's been a fair amount of stuff on my mind lately. I'm navigating my life fairly well right now, but I'm encountering some half-familiar waters in the realm of friendship and, um... I guess the term is 'romance'... that are murky to me. I can't see through them into either people's intentions and behaviour or into the future. I realise you can never really see into the future, but sometimes you get a general idea.
I should believe that the future is all change; I should believe that everything will be different in awhile, because, well, it will be. This part of my life has set up such a lovely and strong holding pattern, though, that I can almost believe in continuity.
Last night I went for dinner with my mom. She was talking about the time she lived in Japan, about how when she'd been there four months and it was time to come back it was hard to leave. She had a home there, friends, habits, a circle of people and behaviours. She had left the very same thing here, had a home to go back to, all that-- but it was still hard to come back.
I didn't know how to tell her that, in my life, I almost always feel like I am leaving everything, all the time. Any time the wheel of behaviours and people turns a full circle and takes me back into familiar people and territory I am, not surprised, but grateful.
I don't know if other people have this experience with their own lives, but I suspect not often.
This is incoherent rambling, I have nothing real to say, but it feels good to write. Now to get some work done...
