Progress

by arianne

Each day I see this blog and have so much to say.  To share.  But the words don’t come…

I have plenty of other things to still write about, like the SeaWorld blogger trip or our family’s Disney trip, or this, or that…

But so often I can’t bring myself to post one. more. thing. until I get something else out first.  And that something “else” is actually a lot of things, many posts even.  And actually not just one specific thing…but everything.  A dull roar in my head that I can’t quite quantify.

For example…

Some days I’m so bowled over by how truly disorganized my house has become, that I wonder how we’ll ever get caught up.  I’m an organization freak, so not having the time to tend to it is a little piece of torture.  Add to that the guilt of not providing the clutter free home I know we all need, and you have constant frustration.

I think part of it is that we know we have to leave.  We will be moving this summer, but we don’t know where.  We just know we have to.  The neighborhood, city, even the state — all yet to be determined.  We go where God and the wind take us, but that hasn’t been revealed yet.  For now, we search.  So I wonder — since we have to leave, does it seem futile to organize?  When we’ll be packing soon?

And this is just one small thing…so many other things to get out.  To scratch out.  To set free.

I wear my heart on my sleeve and more often over share than under, but so much of what we’re going through I can’t share.  It feels unnatural to me, like the thoughts and feelings have been inside so long they may begin to fester.  I wish I could pour water through my soul and clean it all out and start over.

I keep having dreams where I fall off a cliff or something similar.  Always very different plots/characters in these dreams, but they always include me driving, falling, etc off a cliff.  I experience the falling, I realize I’m going to die — like this — and then I wake up.

But last night, when I drove off the cliff (in a bumper car, driven by someone else, surrounded by the Aztecs — don’t ask) for the first time, I jumped out of the car, held on to the side of the red rocky mountain, and held on.  Then I was rescued.  I didn’t fall.

I don’t know what any of this means, or really the point of this post.  But to finally have a dream where I made it out alive?  Maybe I really am making some progress here…

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