What is it you intend to do with your one wild and precious life? ("A Summer Day"-Mary Oliver Brown)
Posing this question to myself used to exhilarate me. Lately, I just sort of glumly answer, "this, I guess." And by-the-bye, my "this" is good stuff, no, great stuff. Since penning the first half of this post (see "Fear and Loathing) I have had a bit of an epiphany. It is not really about relocation or a move across town (both of which I have made some very serious plays for). It is that I am having some angst at facing the next stage of my life.
Without my realizing it, I had completed a major part of my life cycle.
*Marry a great guy who "gets me" and makes killer blueberry waffles-check.
*Figure out what I want to be when I grow up-check.
*Deliver two amazing human beings into the world-check.
So into the throes of family planning was I, that, like a bride after her wedding day, I was unprepared for the emotional upheaval of mission accomplished. Finally having put all of this together it is apparent that my real trouble was never with my locale (although I am not suddenly a parka lover) but a trouble with feeling that this family was at the end, out of options; our story written. THIS IS IT.
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