So, here we are on the brink of a new month. A new season. Funny how life falls in step with nature sometimes. Things are changing, and it's good and promising and hopeful and all happening a little faster than I'm quite ready for.
It feels wild. But in a good way.
I think.
Like barely topping the first hill on a roller coaster...if you like roller coasters, that is. The expectation and anticipation is palpable.
Moving Day is Saturday. My life is being boxed up, and I'm using this opportunity to declutter. To simplify. Both externally and internally. I've been stagnant for a while. So, this process is like a fresh cool stream flowing through my soul, cleansing and reaching parts of me that needed to be awakened. Was that a little dramatic? Probably.
I have a very vivid memory that's probably only a mixture of actual memory and things that have been added by imagination over the years, as that's how these things usually go. But it's as clear in my mind as if it happened yesterday.
My Grandfather had taken all of us kids on one of our many summer hikes to Beaver Creek. It was a hot and humid Alabama afternoon. On the way to the creek, we stopped at this small pond that was brown and stagnant with a grainy film floating in spots. A dead tree drooped at its edge. I waded in, and the water was hot. I swatted a fly away from my face as my toes squished through the mud and wrapped around what my 10 year old little mind was SURE was dead fish bones.
We didn't stay there long. Soon enough we were jumping from a felled tree trunk down into the cool rippling water of Beaver Creek. Papaw whittled a water wheel while we caught banana bugs and dove for mussels.
The difference between the still, hot, murky pond and the flowing waters of the creek were drastic. I welcome the flowing waters. Things are changing. And so am I.
0 comments:
Post a Comment