I had a flash of inspiration over the weekend that I could (should) reset and find new energy for going into the year. There is all kinds of new going on, after all.
New year...although January’s already gone. Always a reasonable time to expect good change, right?
New home--twice the space as before and sunshine on three sides, quiet neighbors--what’s not to love? But it’s odd. While I’m definitely relieved to be not where I was for many reasons, I still feel a little lost. I’m still walking into the wrong room. It’s not like I can’t remember what’s where, I just can’t get the geography straight in my brain, and I keep expecting a different room to be there.
And now I find it aggravating to have to keep turning lights on and off. In the studio, one light over my recliner was sufficient for the living room, kitchen, bedroom, closet, etc. Here, I’m hunting for light switches all the time, and going back to turn lights off.
I know, such problems.
Utterly new for me: a week in Las Vegas.
What can I say? This visit won’t need to be repeated, how about that? There was too much hustling through casinos and too many people. There were some appreciable moments, like watching the Chiefs win in said casino sports bar with several hundred of the aforementioned too many people. And I savored some exploring with Michelle when she came out after the sales meetings. We checked out the Office of Collecting and Design visit as we had intended, and the Core Contemporary Art Gallery, discovered because the indie bookstore next to the Office of Collecting and Design was closed. She and I did join the company group for a visit to Count’s Kustoms, and met the irrepressible Horny Mike. Not necessarily a highlight, but certainly interesting.
My role at the company keeps changing, from comfortable and known to new and daunting. It’s necessary, it’s good, it will be just fine. But the uphill climb has just begun and comfort seems a long way off.
That weekend flash of inspiration didn’t last. New does not always come in shiny and energetic and straightforward. Sometimes new comes with the in-your-face opportunity to see how God meets you at your newly discovered extremity. I am looking forward to finishing my unpacking and making my space familiar and comfortable. It’s time to get back into my poetry, resume the collaboration with Michelle, and focus on regaining some of my old habits of steadiness that have been lost to me for a while. The old, more than anything, I hope, will help alleviate the pressure of the new.
Toward the promise,
Lana
# 307
With grief and apologies
to the trees
All the trees
For destruction wrought upon
your sturdy and faithful forms
Not long ago
Adoring your spot in the sun
the reach of your roots
And now so many crazed stumps
jutting on the hillside
For what?
For our unsatisfied lust for more
For our inability to be content
with what you have always known
A place in the light
and the simple nourishment that
comes to all of Creation
1-5-23
#305
You desire
Our Lord
A heart so thankful
That we neglect attention to ourselves
in favor of expressing gratitude
You desire
Our Lord
That we follow through
with the good we know to do
Not simply speak of it
You desire
Oh Lord
That we turn to You
in the day of trouble
And not lash out
Not seek to do our own saving
With our faces thus turned
how can we miss You?
This is not difficult
Psalm 50
12-28-22
Here’s the link to the last issue Back to the table
That was unexpected, your trip to Las Vegas. I had an aunt named Lilly. She like to go to Las Vegas.
Glad you could see the Chiefs win. yay.
After I moved, I'd be sleeping in bed and hear voices, and I'd think it was members of my family in the kitchen, Then I'd wake up and realize it was neighbors in my apartment building. That took a long time to get use to.
Yes moving always takes an adjustment... and going out of town so soon adds to the adjustment. I know I had that 5 years ago when I moved. I went out of town twice as my dad was dying and then for the funeral.