bits and fragments

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The days have blurred for me recently. In this period of waiting, slow hours, and long stretches of cold, January has once again proven itself faithful in making me feel like it will never end.

I promised myself I would really take time to read and write this year. And I’ve made more progress than I thought I would. Currently I am working my way through Joanne Harris‘s “Chocolat” series having completed Packing Light: Thoughts on Living Life with Less Baggage by Allison Vesterfelt and The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern this month alone! Night Circus was that book I had been waiting for awhile. That one that makes you feel slightly taken from reality to the point that when you close the book you feel as though you’ve awoken from a deep sleep. Since Harry Potter, it’s been hard to find a book or series that made me feel that way. Adventured yet rested.
Writing is a bit slower. And yet I’ve made progress I haven’t made before. 500 words a day. We’ll see how that goes.

I’ve also knitted my first dishrags and sponges. I found cotton yarn by accident for $.49 a skein at Goodwill, so naturally I had to buy them all. I’m getting through a lot of Parenthood episodes with this knitting.

Last night, Nashville’s Public School buses were offered to the homeless so they could sleep indoors in the 9 degree weather. *all the gushing*

Orange spice tea is becoming my favorite. I’m really wanting to make my own herbal teas. I’m really just itching for my own kitchen so I can pretend to know what I’m doing when I finally get to tackle all my Pinterest endeavors.

I feel like I’m waiting for things to happen. Ridiculous, I know. But I do. I feel like since I’ve yet to gain an income or our own place, my life is just about waiting. And I can’t decide if that’s good or not. Naturally, we’d all like to say that nothing should prevent us from being productive. So I try to write, read, knit, plan, cook, etc. I have my walks, when the temperature permits. And sometimes even when it doesn’t. For fifteen years, my walks would not be hindered by heat, rain, wind, or cold. Even if I don’t make it as far as I’d like. I’m going to walk. But I want to find a church and a family of friends. I want become a vineyard member so we can have discounted wine. I want to have monthly supper clubs and weekend travels. I want to bring pie and bread and jam to our new neighbors. And I want to believe that possibility is endless. I feel hindered in these things as my life becomes an awkward in-between. I hear all the voices, including my own, telling me that this time will be missed once it has passed, and I believe it. But while we are creatures of habit who enjoy the comforts of what is know, we are also aching and reaching and searching to find what else there is.

Why do we dream? Because while contentment is a necessity for a life well lived, curiosity is what keeps us alive. Perhaps we are meant to exist in this tension of what is and what can be, grasping both, loving both, settling into what we’ve been given and still ever reaching for what can come.

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