There is a lot going on and nothing much at all, both at once . . . life. There has been marathon knitting for a belated birthday gift.
Lots of blue stitches across Blue's quilt, that require no thinking, allowing time to appreciate the sensation of needle and thread going through cloth. Knowing that seventeen year old Blue would rather have a store bought plain blanket, but hoping that future Blue will appreciate these wonky lines.
A marking of the center, so that I don't get completely lost, while navigating relationships and expectations.
A wondering if the boys will start school tomorrow, due to the pending teacher's strike. A not knowing of whether or not I will have a job for a couple more weeks, due to other public school issues.
Last night I was feeling like a pile of rags. I was getting out the mental iron to try to flatten myself out and erase the evidence of wanting, neediness, and all of the questions that come with self-doubt. Instead I decided to stop, to not go there.
Next to the bed were the few books I've been going back and forth in lately. I looked at the good-for-me, self-reflective, enriching stack, and went and pulled out an old sappy young adult novel.
Maybe I will get to the root of the wrinkles sometime, but for today, not smoothing over them will be enough. I'm going to curl up with my old story, and just be.
