Sunday, April 25, 2010
Sitting, Waiting, Wishing
A thousand small griefs slip down my cheeks, unbidden, at times unwelcome. I don't always have the time, space, energy, privacy for these griefs, this tearing. But it comes anyway.
It's hard to go through the tearing away from what is when you still don't have much sense of what will be.
I do the next thing (thanks, Ann Voskamp) when I can. Sell, clean, sort, throw away, give away. My life seems to slip a little as it loses some of its form. I reach the end of the known next thing, or at least the energy to do it.
I sit, wait, wish, looking up at the signpost, waiting for it to point the way.