May is a difficult month.
One would think that the knowledge that May always brings transitions would be enough of a reminder to prepare myself, yet each year I am newly caught off guard. Perhaps someday I will learn.
(Oh, to be the kind of person who adapts easily to change. Alas, that is not to be.)
May signals the beginning-of-the-end of the school year; there are extra activities, extra expenses, and transitions that are never easy. There are echoes of other changes, too, that are always at the periphery of May. Facebook reminds us of some of those: today in "On This Day," there was a flashback to the public announcement of the Unmooring, as well as a post regarding the diagnosis of ottoman-shaped dog's serious (and ultimately fatal) illness. Alas, again.
Twenty years ago in May, we were preparing to move to this desert land. That seems an eternity ago.
I have woven all those events into the fabric of my life, and do not dwell on them; yet occasionally -- and especially in May -- I find myself running my fingers across that part of the tapestry.
This May has additional wrinkles: there are looming future events that must be planned for and executed. I have been avoiding even thinking about many of them, but cannot do so for much longer. Alas, yet again. I must summon up the courage and meet things head-on.
Oddly, though, and for the first time in any May, I am more reconciled with the idea of change. I cannot stop the march of What Happens. And so, I will ride the wave and see what the future brings.
As long as there is a bit of hiking on occasion with my Safe People, it will all work out OK.
Poetry Thursday, on gratitude
1 day ago