When I first saw this cartoon in the 1970’s there were vultures sitting on top of Saguaro cactus in the middle of the desert. The sentiment is spot-on for my state of mind.
We are THIS CLOSE to being able to list the house…but every time I think the end is in sight, the finish line moves a few feet further away…like a mirage, shimmering in the distance.
It’s all important little details, to be sure. What buyer wouldn’t love a house where all of the trim is freshly touched up, the cabinets are clean and crumb-free, all the corners are dust-bunny free? We are going over this house with an inspector’s eye, and we hope all our work will translate into a quick sale, and make any buyer thrilled to call this house their own!
A couple of nights ago we hurried out front, as excited as children, to see the beautiful orange Super Moon. It’s always been one of our pleasures, sitting on our front porch and admiring the full moon each month ( and we’ve had many, many moons in this house; about one hundred and twenty-six of them). While I will always remember “our porch” I know there will be full moons where-ever we go. And we have next year’s Super Moon to look forward to…I wonder where we will be when we get to see that one?
I’m noticing a bit of melancholy and frustration as I clean and pack, and I think perhaps staying too busy is my way of avoiding the impending feeling of loss. But I remind myself that even the moon must wane in order to become full and luminous again. There she will be, back in the sky every month.
We must have endings in order to have new beginnings.
So, as much as I chomp at the bit and want to hurry up and get on with it, I struggle to stay present in each moment and deal with what’s right in front of me, right now, and to celebrate and allow the unfolding of this experience.
Which reminds me of another poster: “God, I ask that you grant me patience. Right now!”