Wednesday's new moon actually brought actual new possibilities and the beginning of some old closure. I suppose to use my birth analogy, I'm still in the birth canal but can literally see the light at the end of the tunnel. Or to use the beach analogy, I've had just about all the tsunamis I can take this go round, and I've brushed off the sand and seaweed and started to walk shakily down towards the shoreline, to see what condition my boat is in. There's a little work to do before I push off again into the stream of life, but it is doable.
I am sitting next to a beautiful cat which is curled up and lightly snoring. There is a cool breeze wafting into the window, setting the curtains a-flutter. My feet are on a soft carpet, and I just had a satisfying tuna sandwich. These are the kinds of details I want to try to focus on the next few days before things really get going. It is a miracle that I'm still alive. I have breath and all my senses and a new stretch of river and a new safe harbor beckoning. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Maybe I'll double that. Thank you, thank you, thank you again.
