Thursday, July 15, 2010

Unleash Your Inner Psychologist

I had a dream last night. A new spin on a classic.

I was back at my old high school and it was time to change classes. I went to my locker to get my books, but I couldn't remember exactly which locker was mine. I kept going down the line and I knew the combination for every lock. I was thinking, "How crazy if all this time, the combinations were the same for each locker! Sneaky." But as each locker opened, I would discover that none of my things were in it. Wrong red locker. So down the line I went, opening opening opening lockers. And the clock was ticking and I knew I was running out of time.

In my professional opinion, I think I might be feeling just a sliver of anxiety over time-sensitive matters such as selling a house, finding a new house, finding a job for the Mister...

I find myself yearning for the day when all of it is settled. When we are settled. We're in Limbo Land, and this town ain't big enough for the both of us. I've willfully allowed the hanging baskets and the window box to die an ugly and untimely death. There are unplucked weeds. It's true.

But there there are also Littles, soothing me like ginger lemon tea. There is my honey, catching the frets as they ricochet off of me and tossing them over his shoulder like the old news that they are. There are flowers, calming me like a salve.


I'm ready to live these last Summer weeks with a new kind of peace and a new kind of joy. Or maybe they're the old kinds. Maybe they're the Good Ol' Days, coming back around and slowing down just enough for me to hop back on.

It may periodically trip me up - this odd existence. We have joyfully surrendered with the assumption that change would steam-roll us right into our next phase of life. As it turns out, God isn't interested in steam-rolling us. He probably knows it's too hot and sticky for a bunch of steam right now, anyway.

One of these days, opportunity will arrive. On a bicycle, I think. Or maybe rollerskates. A pogo stick? That would be fun.

All I know is that when "it" lollygags 'round the bend, I hope it finds me with a smile on my face. And maybe a clean shirt and blow-dried hair, but I'm not holding my breath.