unmoored

My mother used to have this saying: “This country is too big.” And it’s odd, because I moved only 2 and 1/2 hours away from where I was, and it seems far. And as I settle in, I notice how I anchor myself. In a new place, I really see that.

One way that I really do anchor is with routine. I like, rather, I LOVE my routine. And if something comes along like, say, a sore back… Hmmm. Am I going to let that get in my way? I don’t think so. I’m going to just imagine that it’s not actually there. That if I ignore it, it surely will pass.

Damn it all. Why doesn’t that work? Why can’t I just imagine things away? Well, maybe I can sometimes. But this time, no.

So, yes, I have to pull the anchor up a bit. Just let go of that darn way of mooring. Not so easy for me.

And yes, isn’t it wonderful to see how precious a mooring can be, under the best of circumstances?