Wind and Snow Paralyze the Northeast.
I tuck my flip-flopped feet underneath me and minimize the news.
It doesn’t feel right that it’s so mild out today, that the sky is once again bottomless blue. The brownness of the grass doesn’t feel right, either – back in my hometown, there are already tiny flowers beneath the snow.
When will it rain again?
Everything feels like it’s waiting and it’s tired of that wait.
Right I’m sitting in the Panera where I first apartment-hunted two years ago. I’m sitting in the exact same table, in fact, looking out at weather much nicer than before. I can just make out the roofs of the apartment complex I would end up living in before I found my beautiful house… the house that I have now had the pleasure of living in just shy of a year.
Last year at this time, my mind was on fire with excitement and impatience to begin renovation. One year later, I once again find myself restless with the need for a DIY project, the desire to trade my sweat for a small transformation consuming my thoughts. I need methodical tasks to relax, these days. I need the before and after of dirty wood and crisp paint.
Grief is heavy on my mind, confusingly muddled with gratitude and hope.
I wish that I could throw myself into work today, that my mind would engage and rise to challenge of building my professional development plan.
What is your vision for the next two years? The next year? the worksheet asks. What tangible action items can we put on your agenda for the next six weeks?
I don’t know.
I write, “Improve my agility with sales forecasting tools.”
That’s the right answer, but the real answer is learn to breathe air rarified with grief without stopping to catch my breath.