The Blanket

There is a level of discomfort that needles me.  If I pay attention to it, then it expands into my thoughts.   My discomfort lies primarily in the waiting.  I am still in a state of transition.   This doesn’t normally define me until I wake up with a feeling of being less than.  My choices are few.  I can either remain captive in my thoughts or discard the blanket of “less than” that reveals that my feelings aren’t facts.

I know that my Higher Power has provided this space for me.   A quiet span of time where I can collect my thoughts and figure out the landscape on my incomplete work of art.    I am grateful for those paying writing gigs that have come my way, but I know there is more.   In the meantime, I have been patient, well, as much as I can be.    There are points in the day as I luxuriously curl up with a book or freely write about the topics I choose where I swim in gratitude.  Then there are those times, like right now, where I exhale with annoyance wondering how long this “space” that I am being provided will be empty.

There are ebbs and flows in this current state of mind.   Of course, I continue to find gratitude in being removed eight months ago from position that no longer felt like home.  God knew before I did that the particular chapter in my life story had finished and it was time to start something new.     So, I continue to wait in the space provided. I trust that the opportunities will reveal themselves when the timing is right.    I also know that when this space is filled to capacity, I will look back longingly at the moments that gave me the time to be still.     None of this time is filled with regret rather an odd sense of peace while I patiently wait -in my best attempt- for what comes next.

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