Anticipatory. And also very vague
That I have not been here much has been a good thing. I've been distracted. By work. By friends. By frantically cleaning out closets and my storage space and head. By a gooby, sweet feeling welling up in my heart that is the reminder that life is surprising and complicated and lovely and just fine.
That's vague, I know. Maybe it's the sun splayed out on my porch while I'm tap-tap-tapping away on my laptop. Perhaps it is that another robin has made her home in the nest above our front door that was quiet all winter long and soon will hold the fragile eggs of a third generation of baby birds.
It could be my boy, looking leggy and with a face that seems to be changing every day, skipping closer and closer to the end of preschool and the bittersweet milestone that Kindergarten will be. Or the cherry blossoms that have colored my neighborhood bright pink and the purest white, reminding me of years ago of a street in Corvallis, Oregon. I rode a squeaky lavender cruiser bike up and down and up and down that street on the few precious days the cherry blossom snow would fall into my hair and over my shoulders and into the basket on my bike. That thought and the same welled-up bliss came to me while I ran last week, music blaring and kids playing loudly in front of the school and me held silently in two different lives and cities and worlds for one small moment.
There's also these wide open, excited thoughts about the summer. About plans to go to New York City and San Francisco, the possibility of Florida and someplace where Lil E and I can spend time just the two of us. There are so many shows to see and friends I do not see nearly enough, weekends at my parents' lake house and -- something I've foolishly feared and now am ready to do -- long morning runs along the lakefront in my own city.
When I marked the beginning of a new year for me on my birthday a few weeks ago, I could see that I was opening up to taking new and bigger risks, that my life was changing, that I am shifting. Sometimes it takes quiet and time to know what to do with those realizations, I guess. And this go-around, I've chosen to let myself stand still, sit in the sunshine, run through impermanent blossoms, take the day off, stretch out in my bed, say to hell with the plans and cuddle up on the couch for an evening, stop the talk-talk-tap-tap-tapping for just one more minute. So I can watch it all unfold. So I can wonder what will come next. So I can just enjoy.
It's a big explanation for an empty-ish blog. But there it is. I'm not going away, by any means. But if I'm going to change, to let go, then things might just shift around here, too. Maybe just for a time, maybe longer. We'll see how that goes. I am pretty sure it's going to be a change for the good, if not better.
(Blame the rambling on this song, which I have been listening to over and over for three days. And yes, I heard on The City premiere. What the what? Take it up with that PR chick from Elle mag if you have something to say about it. And also, yes, she's saying "our year." I have a hunch there's very good reason for my connection to that.)
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