Yesterday a great friend remarked in a tone that perfectly balanced trust and anguish, "I just never know what to do when my life is put in a blender like this". All at once she was forced to move due to unsafe conditions in her rented apartment, during the middle of exams, a week before starting a new job, all the while awaiting the birth of her friend's second baby at which she is committed to being the birth partner...
Forever cosmically connected and closely mirroring her hopeful chaos, I too stare at the multi-coloured metaphorical cocktail (mine is definitely spiked!) my life is sure to produce in the coming weeks. Facing the brightly lit interrogation rooms promised by US immigration services, relocation to one of the biggest and craziest cities in the world, a surrendering of the personal and professional safety net, and of course... the biggest and boldest shift- marriage.
What is this silence right before the roar of the crowd? The pinprick the first star makes in the dark blue as sky shifts to night? The pause before the inhale, the morning stretch before day comes rushing in, the taste the tongue reaches for as you inhale the aroma of a freshly baked loaf... I am living in the almost-there. In the almost here. So focused on the future, asking questions of what is to become of me- it's all I can do to remember to sleep and eat; all the while knowing that soon I'll be "there" and once I am I'll find myself in selfish moments wishing I was "here" in the safe silence before everything was different.
So forever it becomes about Now. The sacred promise of change means that this will never be again, while This is all there is. But I decided quite a while ago that although I will always lean heavily on my wisdom, hoping to live it more and more each day- I am a human in the tumult of constant shift. I pray and run and let my dreams dance wildly, and as it does, the clock chimes when it feels like it and sometimes I hear it and sometimes I don't.
Bound to my little life, I embrace the worry and the anxious feelings in my tummy. I forgive the crazy makers in my mind and give gratitude for the righteousness that seems to order the chaos. Because what my friend really meant was "I hope I like the taste of this when the blender has finished blending". Me too!
But for now I getting lost in the whirr of the blades and do my best to prepare my palate for what could be a very interesting concoction..
