We put an offer on the house today, and I'm wishing I could do like my cat: curl up, put my tail over my nose and sleep off the anxiety. Instead I try to gather my scattered self by drinking many cups of berry tea and sketching.
After we signed all the paper work and the realtor left, the song by Bill Withers that we danced to at our wedding came on the radio. We never hear it on the radio! An omen---but one we are unable to interpret.
Over stimulated by the time we got home, I was in desperate need of alone time. The sound of my son's teething-induced whining grated on every nerve. Tiredness crushed around me like broken pieces of glass.
In the cafÃ I ordered a toasted bagel with butter, and tea. I let myself unwind, drawing my paper cup, the bagel on the clear glass plate, the crumbs on the table. I took the time to notice the salty taste of each bready bite, and the sweetness of the tea. In the cafÃ window I saw myself, slouching. Outside, the silhouettes of people moving up and down the dark street, backlit by shop windows.
I am trying to be open to the process of rightness. So many readers have reminded me: what is right will happen, and I believe this is true. It is just so much harder live it than believe it.