come together. right now.

I can scarcely believe I have stolen this slice of the clock to sit and reflect. It feels suspiciously intended for me to gather and comment.

Moving house, late stage pregnancy, managing toddlers, selling a flat: what are things that are complicated. what are things that are stressful. what are things that are tiring.

All true. And yet, here I am with an hour on my own. Chores done. Lists crossed off (for now). And  a sense of not calm exactly, but more okay-ness with it all.

I feel like I have been staring at a mountain of puzzle pieces that someone dumped out -- all the same colour and no picture as a guide. Daunting and brain-achingly big. But somehow we've managed a few of the edge pieces together ... and a few of the central ones. I still don't know where many of the pieces go, or what the picture looks like, but I now see it is possible.

It helps and soothes enormously that my partner is deeply committed to problem solving, puzzle piecing and is not scared to put an excel spreadsheet to good use. I just keep turning the pieces over and lining them up. Once in a while I find one that fits.

No big lesson here or lofty epiphany here, just a deep sense of relief that things, which seemed endlessly complicated, are actually fitting quite nicely. 

going under

Friday's  note from the Universe told me that wisdom arrives in silence.

Silent is what I have been feeling lately. Not that I have nothing to say. But more that my words go in circles. I find myself at a weird juncture, causing me to walk carefully without attachment to my current situation.

Looks like dear husband's job really really going to end soon and we are now looking at some rather dramatic options to our next step. Rent out our (lovely, big, perfect) flat and go live somewhere for as free as possible. In Laws. And await a job. And decide if the US is that next place to be.

This level of Get Ready to Jump is putting my running our household/laundry doing/house stocking/cleaning/care taking//friendship nurturing /social outreach right into a state of emergency. And then ultimately a state of unattachment.

Do I have to let go of *this* in order to reach what's next? How tight is my grip on keeping things the same? What am I preventing by this? What do I need to let go of? What's really important here? What's scaring me about leaving? What scares me about staying?

Yeah- those are the twilrlings in my noggin. All big thinkings and all insider jobs, done a bit in, well, silence.

What's emerging in that silence is sometimes complete acceptance. (Hey, I am not MARRIED to Glasgow, we can make new friends and lighten our load of *stuff* and just GO. ) Othertimes it is more desparate clinging and hand wringing (I LOVE our home, we finally own everything, I love our friends and the neighbourhood and out life here and Lew is happy and we are settled, finally settled for a while and I DON'T WANNA GO. Stamp foot.)

What else is emerging is that I have done this all before. What I need is trust. Hope. Lean into what's possible, dream more about what it is we WANT in our future. ( I see Seattle, a cute house, Mark's GREAT job, more babies and a lovely lifestyle)

AND AND AND ... it may be something else.  Something I have not yet dreamed of.

What I know is it matters that we are a) together b) happy c) OK.

The rest can come.

Even as I type I can feel the undercurrents of this going under.

It resonates.

When I am silent.