You know, life doesn’t pause to let you catch your breath just because something awful happens. History keeps happening; other people’s stories keep developing; the contents of the laundry basket and fridge keep requiring attention. Over and over this has felt like such an injustice--if it would just stop for a minute, for a day, I could adjust and not feel like I’m losing ground... I still feel a couple beats behind.
I’ll be moving again in about a week back into the neighborhood I lived in when I met John. I am looking forward to twice the square footage, the same essential sunshine in my morning space, a nice walk to my favorite auntie and uncle’s house, and far fewer neighbors pressing upon me--both those dwelling unwelcomed in my kitchen and those whose activities bring police cars and ambulances to the parking lot on a regular basis. After this, I hope to be done moving for a long time.
The company continues to hurtle forward in organized chaos. We made the Million Dollar Club our first year as a rep agency for one of the top five commercial playground manufacturers, so all of us will be at the sales meetings in Las Vegas at the end of the month to claim our due. (Check out Anne Garney Park at Woodland and 111th Street in Kansas City North, the Oak Ridge Family Social Club out in the Stroud’s North neighborhood, and the new Tomahawk Park in Basehor, Kansas, just to point out a few.)
We’re looking for warehouse/office space and a seasoned sales rep with a definite tolerance for building the plane while we fly. My role is shifting, from known and comfortable duties to tasks that make me think long and pray hard.
Michelle will be coming to Vegas after sales meetings to play with me for a couple days of creative playing and seeing a bit of the world that I will not need to experience ever again. Then we shall turn our attentions to photography and poetry and see what wants to happen there.
And see, this is the gift of the not stopping, the not slowing. I’ve had something to do every day. Sometimes the only thing that makes the clock turn is my commitment to do well what I’ve told someone I’d do. But the requirements of each day get me through another day.
So it’s a year later. Much to my surprise, forward seems the way to go.
Toward the promise,
Lana
#250
On the days when you
feel it the hardest
But you can’t stop can’t slow down
You find ways to tuck
part of your soul away
To curl up around your
broken heart
And carry on as if
you hadn’t noticed
And even if they know
they don’t know
You’ve split in two
11-9-2022
#302
Instinct full of liturgy and line
Penchant for solitude and dabbling
Neither there nor here
Thou Holy-
Thou Love-
May I turn to find Thee
But at the sword edge
at the breathed-out
At the stillness of absolute surrender
12-24-22
Here’s the link to the last issue Holiday wishes.
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Lana, I'm glad you are moving to a better home. I know moving is difficult, but you will be so glad when you are settled in your new home. I'm also glad that this employment opportunity came to you, making it easier to structure your time in this difficult first year since John's passing. You continue to be in my prayers.
Moving again. wow, I hope you get some good help, and keep track of what you need the most, to be able to unpack first. God bless you in your endeavor, glad you get more space and are closer to you Auntie and Uncle. You do well to write your poems. Good creativity. Take care, and get your much needed rest for body, mind, and spirit.