I am taking this brief commercial break to offer gratitude for simple things: good strong boxes, a good strong back, and good strong acetaminophen. I am tired and sore and it’s only 8 p.m. here. Again I worked all day, and again am mildly amazed at how slowly things are still going. A few hours ago I pack a “hybrid” box that contained some organized, systematic order along with a smaller box labeled “Total Crap to be Sorted Later.” I didn’t want to do it, but I did. I suspect tthat’s going to happen more and more frequently as time for the move approaches. I must say, however, that overall I believe I am hauling less absolute crap out East than I might have if I hadn’t been trying to pack carefully over the last several weeks. As I still have a lot of work to do, I will keep tonight’s blog relatively brief.
It is of course a catch 22 to sit down to write, because now that I’ve been sitting for a while I find that my body doesn’t want to get up. My guess is that I’m mostly done with the physical work for the day and will move onto the emails and internet research I need to do for the move–there are myriad details to be attended to and they are almost as daunting as the packing has been. So many little details, so little time. I’m grateful to have a sense of humor about it all; somehow in the midst of all the chaos I still find myself smiling and laughing at various things. I do not take that for granted, not even a little bit.
In response to yesterday’s blog about having to be satisfied with and grateful for the work I managed to get done yesterday (which I lamented hadn’t been as much as I’d hoped) one of my sisters shared with me another portion of the night prayer from the New Zealand Prayer Book:
“It is but lost labour that we haste to rise up early, and so late take our rest, and eat the bread of anxiety. For those beloved of God are given gifts even while they sleep.”I believe she was trying to tell me not to sweat it, that everything is going to come together as it needs to. And while I have indeed risen early and gone to bed late these past few days, there’s no need yet to “eat the bread of anxiety.” Over the past several weeks I’ve eaten the bread of anxiety, smeared with the butter of uncertainty and washed down with the wine of worry, all of which leads to significant emotional and mental indigestion (if such a thing were possible…) I continue to work hard on remaining calm in the midst of the chaos, and so far it seems to be going surprisingly well. I do expect that the next seven to 10 days are going to be hairy, and I’ll be taking several rides on Mephistopheles the Mechanical Bull. Nevertheless, I am equal to the task and will keep at it no matter how I get flung and spun and whipped around. I will continue to laugh, smile and be grateful. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. See you back here tomorrow!
