Nothing is wrong, right? I can’t even tell anymore. My soul has been stirred up today, whipped around and disquiet. Ache and worry settle in and wrap around the crook of my neck, hugging the curve of my spine, and shoulders crawl towards my ears in their familiar upward journey of tension and tendons.
I think my neighbor smokes; all day the so-subtle-I can’t pinpoint-it aroma of smoke has bothered me on the edges of my awareness. It couples with nest of tension snuggled in at the back on my head and creates a blossom of uncertainty and unrest.
So many things that need me, so many little hands and hearts and eyes that need me- and I am so distracted by my own seeping worries I cannot even see what to focus on first. So many piles I can do nothing about, that I cannot really find the ones that I can do something about. Sorting. Sifting. Shifting. Culling. Swimming.
My heart wanders the house tonight, looking for a place to rest…