Night 2
The bewitching hours of the second night in the house find me taking my personal inventory on two fronts: Domestic and Personal. No, the inventory isnae causing insomnia. I slept plenty yesterday. Appetite wimpy, but food is going down and staying down.
On the domestic front, I find myself plying an Alanon meditation I learned in conjunction with the "Let Go and Let God" slogan. In this meditation I am visualizing myself fawning over my middle-aged children, their children and their significant others as I prepare to lovingly and respectfully hand them over to God. Please guide them in your eternal wisdom. In you I trust.
On the personal inventory. . . Yikes!! Anxiety is rife that I am at the front end of yet another lesson on being careful what I wish for because I just might get it. Was I really ready to give up the road life? I don't think this house will fit in Boy Toy's cargo hold if I change my mind about the Townie gig. It's not THAT small. Still, even the rattiest of river pirates need to come ashore every once in a while. The most nomadic of road warriors typically have a home base. It's allowed.
Escape fantasies have been my number one coping mechanism in the long, winding journey from the kiddie whorehouses to here, whether borrowed from the literary giants or dreamed from the cacoons of my childhood hidey holes. I have even managed to bring enough of those dreams to fruition to show me the wisdom of being careful what you wish for. Insert Eagles song here. What do you do when a dream comes true and it's not quite what you planned? Who daydreams about hard work, repetitive challenges and unexpected responsibilities? The river dreams which have drawn my attention to this inland delta region for most of my life are as winding and multifaceted as any dream set ever assembled. They range from my personal Fort Defiance weirds to the Lewis and Clark expedition in elementary school history books to Mark Twain to on-going research.
"Dream Weaving" is one of the phrases which keep bubbling to the top of this contemplation. Is it possible that the stuffy little CPA who keeps popping up to say, "Do first. define later." is the author of that label? Back to reality. . .
Stepping small and praying big. . . I think I am holding steady.
Replies
Even pirates have a home port, Arfie. Forgive yourself for having a permanent address that is all your own safe cove/harbor. It's only permanent till it's not, was something my Alanon group leader would say. (I doubt that's Alanon doctrine, LOL.)
Soft purrs.
We'll talk again after the first plumbing (or whatever) disaster. . .
dream weaving is more fun than realty bites, having the home base lab will be good for the expedition's finds.
one of the first things I heard in my faith finding was that I should turn over all loved one into the hands/arms of god. doing that has lighten my burden.
In my prayer life I'd always ask God for what I wanted for the person...coming to the conclusion "wrong way" I now Pray for Your Greatest Good Be Done...thereby taking myself totally out of the picture...as you wrote turning All Over to God...as He Does Have A Plan for all of us....just sometimes Clouds Get In The Way....as we look at both sides of 'choice'...