I painted my room today, preparing for Sunday’s open house. This evening as I was replacing the paintings and furnishings, I became wistful and thought how I would miss this room. I puttered around saying goodbye to my bedroom. My room is small, filled mostly by the bed. Cleaning or making the bed involves navigating small spaces and tight corners. By the time I was done, I was so aggravated that I lost all my romantic feelings about that room and remembered how much I want to move!
The open house is exposing myself and my life to strangers. Hm. Oh well, I really don’t have a problem with it. It’s not something I’d do for fun but since it’s necessary I can put up with it. Perspective.
And breathe. Yesterday I got out of my car while it was still running.
But I can connect with a part of me that is not scared at all, who sees the path and does not waver.
