Yesterday at work I was really busy, lots of paperwork and people dropping by. The new family for #10 came in and got her keys, her kids were so excited. The maintenance person, Linda, took the family through the suite and signed the final papers, while I finished off the bank deposit of rent and washing machine money. Linda came in as I was pondering all I didn’t get to; the papers to file, the letter to write acknowledging an application received. As we left for the day I mentioned how I was going to return in the morning to deal with some of the paperwork piled in the corner of my desk. She looked at me, shocked. “It’s your day off!” she said. “Why would you come in to file some papers? They can wait, can’t they?”
I thought about that this morning, and realized that the last vestiges of my old life were being shed. The pace of grace, the simple replacing chaos, the order to the day, the release and relief that my life is unfolding as I finally want it to.
I’m knitting more. Taking another painting class (a two canvas affair of the medieval French village where I was born). Taking the dog to the camp and throwing the stick. Mooching through the used bookstore and the hospital auxiliary store. I actually dust things in my house now. I’m planning a solitary road trip to
It’s interesting, because the longing, the restlessness, that drove me for so many years is still there, it is just softer, gentler and at the same time stronger and with more conviction than I had ever thought possible.
I wonder what’s next?
