Time, Time, Time

I keep promising myself I will write in this blog every week, and every week goes by and I don't. There is too much busyness going on and I forget. And I wonder what do I have to say every week that needs to get said. Judging by the internet, plenty of people have plenty to say all of the time, but I don't.

I'm a quiet person, a loner, who loves to stay home with my dog Wyoming and my cats Tula and Taji. It's so peaceful right now. Wyoming is lying on the cool tile floor, sound asleep. Taji is napping on the porch settee, enjoying the coolish outdoors. Tula is sequestered under the bed, sleeping the sleep of a contented cat. And I am loving the silence (except for the occasional jet noise because I live in the flight path for Tampa International Airport).

Today I've been going through drawers, cabinets, and my closet in an effort to declutter and rehome various things I don't need or want anymore. I can do this now because I changed my verbiage when it comes to my things. Instead of "get rid of," I now say "rehome." It sounds much nicer to let my long-cherished things go to someone else's home. Now, all I have to do is see if I can do this with my books. 

Oh, my books. Love my books. They're everywhere, on shelves, on tables, on dressers, on the floor. I saw a t-shirt once that said "It's not hoarding if it's books." Yes! I just need a bigger house. That's all.

And now it's almost Thanksgiving, and then Christmas, and then another year begins. I'm starting to freak out that time doesn't stop; it keeps moving forward, and that means I'm getting older, and that means I better start living the life I've always dreamed of . . . but I don't know how to get there. It's difficult to stop breathing the life I created out of a sense of nowheresville. No plan, no real dream, no looking where I'm stepping. Just leaping, and falling, and leaping again, and falling again, until I wind up in a place that twists me into knots. And I have no patience for undoing knots so I stay in knotland.

But there are still good things in knotland. If you look hard enough, there is always something good in front of your face, be it a sleeping dog or a singing bird or a crisp dark sky with stars and a moon. I haven't lived in a war-torn country but the people who live in such devastation must find some good sometimes or there would be no reason to go on living and hoping and dreaming.

So, I sit here on a Sunday afternoon writing, daydreaming about starting a different life, enjoying the coolish breeze from my oscillating table fan, breathing in the fresh air from the open windows and patio door, and trying to let go of the fear that's trying to strangle my quest for a life of creativity and enjoyment. To quote the X Ambassadors from their song "Renegades" -- Go forth and have no fear. I have it printed on my door. Now, I just need it engraved on my heart and in my mind.