Things are moving

Things move all the time. All around; within, without.

Anger to forgiveness, hurt to reconciliation, control to surrender, concern to trust, fear to freedom, isolation to being known, judgment to compassion, idealism to practice, sickness to healing, fatigue to rest, false security to reckless abandon. All towards — and often back again at some point.

And so I have moved …

Moved from one residency to another.

Moved from privacy and independence towards community.

Moved from “pregnant” to “oh-my-god-I’m-dilating-so-now-this-sh*ts-for-realz”.

Moved from traditional bed to a cotton futon on the floor which hurt like a mother until I added a 3″ natural latex topper with a 1″ sheepskin on top. Mucho mejor!

Moved from an aunt of two nieces to an aunt of 3 (congrats Rachel!)

Moved inside out by life. Wearing soft flesh outside of raw skin, puzzling and pondering the hours that pass, the changes that occur, the paradigm shifts… very distracting, all this moving.