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Rambles: the moment at hand
I'm flat on my back in bed in dim artificial light, still in New Hampshire, still in the apartment ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
figmentj and I moved into late last year, watching as a Biblical thunderstorm foments outside the uncurtained windows. The bedroom isn't empty, but it's a far cry sparser than it was, with contents of the closet and all non-essential furniture disassembled, packed up and shunted away (at least as far as the living room). Next week is my last at my current job, and hopefully the last in this apartment—certainly the last full one. I've already delivered the first carload of stuff to the new place, and the second will go down tomorrow after a job interview in the western suburbs of Boston. There is furniture to sell off, a truck to procure, a car to sell, packing and cleaning to do, and of course a job to find, although that part is more hopeful than I'd feared it might be at this stage. I miss figmentj. I miss belgatherial. I miss people, although I know that'll change soon enough. I'm excited and terrified in equal measure, and somewhere in between the two I'm searching for that calm that will make everything happen, that will allow me the forward motion I need.
Maybe it's here in this thunderstorm. It's growing; can you hear that? My old Quaker habits are kicking in, or trying to: slip into silence and see what it has to tell you, the silence or the thunder, all the same voice. I stretch, hoping to will away the knots that hold my shoulders fast, and listen. Just listen.
figmentj and I moved into late last year, watching as a Biblical thunderstorm foments outside the uncurtained windows. The bedroom isn't empty, but it's a far cry sparser than it was, with contents of the closet and all non-essential furniture disassembled, packed up and shunted away (at least as far as the living room). Next week is my last at my current job, and hopefully the last in this apartment—certainly the last full one. I've already delivered the first carload of stuff to the new place, and the second will go down tomorrow after a job interview in the western suburbs of Boston. There is furniture to sell off, a truck to procure, a car to sell, packing and cleaning to do, and of course a job to find, although that part is more hopeful than I'd feared it might be at this stage. I miss figmentj. I miss belgatherial. I miss people, although I know that'll change soon enough. I'm excited and terrified in equal measure, and somewhere in between the two I'm searching for that calm that will make everything happen, that will allow me the forward motion I need.Maybe it's here in this thunderstorm. It's growing; can you hear that? My old Quaker habits are kicking in, or trying to: slip into silence and see what it has to tell you, the silence or the thunder, all the same voice. I stretch, hoping to will away the knots that hold my shoulders fast, and listen. Just listen.
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