write, just write. that's the thing to do when you want to write, but nothing comes to mind. ok.
I pause to reflect, and I almost fall asleep.
I see the face of someone experiencing great loss.
I see images from a dream last night - one with great red cabinets in a (my?) bedroom.
I crave images of a beach, to hear waves, to have nothing to do for a week or 2 or a month. maybe I will soon.
Right now, I should be at the house. Packing, purging, organizing, taking charge, getting stuff done, creating light at the end of the tunnel. And I will be soon, As soon as I get this off, I will be off. But so many aspects of the chore are daunting. Not the task itself, but there is so much baggage, of the emotional type. One can try to put it aside, but then stuff crops up, from seeing something, from touching something, from others helping.
I have been enjoying the bliss of having a long time to get out of the house, but now is the time to act. We have plenty of time, but I want to move in such away that we have ample time and are not pressured as the last day draws near, not panicking with loose ends. And, to do that, I need to make a big dent today. I want to make a big dent today.
Onward!
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