Wierd

I was walking up my steps with a big load of laundry and that word popped in, loud and simple - wierd.

It is wierd. I'm going away. I have no idea what's ahead. At that moment, arms full, I'd just finished a pass of clothing determinations, clean, dirty, give away, throw away, pack for storage, pack for trip, still needed and the biggest one, gee, I just don't know yet and I can't possibly make another decision. Every single thing I touch these days needs a decision.

But perhaps the wierdest thing was, at that moment, I wasn't stressed. After weeks of anxiety and the insidious self-criticism of the anxiety, it suddenly wasn't there. There I was, once again walking up the steps with a load of laundry. Completely the same and completely different. The unknown permeating my breath in a moment that was both precious, and well, wierd.

Glancing up from my computer, I see the quince are blooming! I love this garden where I live, I love the Bay Area, I love my friends, I love Breema, I love my life here. But at least I've quit asking myself, why am I going? Something else is needed and I don't know what it is, but I've said YES.

Feels pretty damn wierd though. Everyone keeps asking me, are you excited? It's taken all this time for me to realize the best answer to that question is simply yes. I can't possibly begin to explain the most complex mix of thought and emotion I've even experienced. But I'm liking it. Because it's wierd.