Transitioning

Some times you just need to be quiet. Today is one of those days, I think. Not that Conner is aware of this as he broke into my unit last night wanting me to go out somewhere with him. The fact that everything was closed didn't matter to him. Conner loves a challenge.

But I stayed in bed, pulling the covers over my head and eventually he went somewhere else.

So this morning, I opened the curtains to the sliding glass doors and they went flying to the floor. So I poured myself a cup of coffee and stared at the 27 hangers that used to hold the curtain to the rail. I suppose that I have a project of somehow refastening all of them so that I can hang it back up. Conner is no where to be found. Where is he when I need him?

So I poured myself another cup of coffee and am sitting outside listening to the sounds of the palm branches dancing in the breeze. There is silence and then there are the noises beneath the silence. Birds softly singing. Waves kissing the shore.

There is nothing profound today. Just living through the life that I have been given, which is somehow in shambles and has order and stability at the same time. I am transitioning, to use the word that Lavanda chooses. But for a moment, I am quiet and contemplative.

It will not last. Conner will eventually show up and we have Beach Patrols to do. And tonight I will dance. Maybe even wear the fallen curtains around me. And get on with this life that I have been given. And enjoy it again.