plank on a barrel

this morning

I just happened to notice that the time on my computer doesn’t match the time on the wall clock. Right. Daylight Savings!! Something about living in the middle of nowhere kind of keeps me out of the loop sometimes.

What to write? What to say? What to share in that place between the need to express and spew and feel, and the necessity of caution and character and right action? In some ways I feel as though no matter what I express in these next weeks, it won’t paint even a shadow of my heart’s reality. At the same time, each word and thought may be too much; too raw or revealing.
I desire to be open and vulnerable in this unique community, yet not inappropriate or burdensome. I leap at the conversations and interwoven connections stemming from these posts, but recognize my need for tangible arms and faces, someday. It’s so bizarre being so alone, yet writing within an online neighborhood of thousands. And being so uprooted, while living in the best home I’ve known. Everything is a give-take, a contrast, a yin-yang of sorts right now, all the time. Any middle ground is a swirling grey. So we teeter and totter, back and forth; letting go, holding on, moving forward, stepping back.

Three weeks from today, we will drive down that mountain road and leave this place forever.

Will I be looking back and wishing? Regretting and wondering?
Or will I be looking forward, around the bend?

Today, I just don’t know.

One Response to “plank on a barrel”
  1. Lola says:

    and that my friend, so it seems, is life. We are all right there with you in one way or another, in constant motion back and forth, fighting against turbulence. You handle it with prose and dignity. And as thousands read on, it really is only the moments and people around you that can really “know”. Here’s to the “knowing” and the looking forward and the bittersweet past. Nothing is safe but everything holds the promise of ultimate beauty one day soon.

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