Movement

As I sit here staring at this blank screen, feeling compelled to write, but wanting to say something worthy of being recorded for posterity (or at least for the duration of this read time), I am not unawares of the movement surrounding me~ though I sit and pretend I can't be reached.

This cozy little space I've carved out for myself (like most dwellings I've adopted and relinquished), where I spend my energies enlightening my charges with numbers- partial, equivalent, negative, and Orders of Operations (no donor list registry required,) is rattling and resisting, and the winds are teasing the very foundation whose solidity I find I have taken for granted. I didn't predict these, but I knew they'd come. It's time. There are lessons to be learned. Their arrival is just more direct and more immediate than I would allow for...

Actually, I would've (past tense) sealed the cracks resisting the winds insistence, despite what we were taught in my Kansas youth; a time when Tornado Drill protocol was taught as it's own religion, sometimes even during catechism classes~ and it was this: that to minimize the damage of the gales, it is far better to open the windows and doors, inviting them in, deflating their significance and relieving the pressure, affording the anchoring of the foundation to remain.

Embrace them? But that would sure be hell on one's hair...

These winds aren't of that significance, and I've learned when to take cover and when to watch for the dance of polar cloud opposites. The heat. The lightning. The cooling. The subtleties now instinctual. Flee or ride out the storm? I've tired of hunkering down, trying to predict the precise strike of random blows... awaiting the damage revealed.

So, what of this lengthy, obscure analogy ('What the hell was she saying? Beats me. Probably some bad hair day story or recess duty again. I've 'eard she 'tips the bot'el' a lit'el...') Nah. Well, that last one is true... It's just that I'm learning not to fear adversarial forces (a HUGE lesson for this conflict averse chick) and I am able to stand and face those winds head on, embracing those lessons they carry through with them from places I choose not to travel. So, I've honored my inner siren (wink, wink), I've stood my ground, shetered my own, and safeguarded from directional blows this week.
(And...sardonic link here.)

It's time to go open the door...