Henry has been my faithful co-pilot these many years of commuting back and forth between CT and VT. I promised him today that this would be his next-to-last interstate ride, and that soon we will call Vermont home.
My life has never felt quite so in between. All of my usual strategies for being centered are paling in the face of all of this disruption.
So I am cultivating being present big time.
One day it was nearly 70 degrees and my feet said ahhhhhhhh as I slid them into my trusty Birkenstock sandals. I do not think there is a better place for my feet to be.
But the very next day we woke to snow on the ground.
Sometimes I eat squeaky clean foods and sometimes I just don't.
And I am not sleeping well, so my meditation practice has moved into the wee hours of the morning when I am tossing and turning.
April is National Poetry Month, and that is helping. Refuge in words. Yes. I go there often.
Someday soon all of this transition will be done. And we will be here. Just here.
And that, my friends, will be awesome.