Sometimes, it’s stark the clear difference between what is imagined and what is reality.

I dreamed of sitting curled up in my new reading chair (aka, Lucy’s chair), sipping a hot beverage, reading my book as the snow gently fell all afternoon.  I thought maybe I would write a little because the mood just seemed as though it would be conducive.

I *am* curled up on my reading chair, I *have* read some of my book.  But it’s been another strange day — even the snow has been strange.  Sometimes clattering against the windows, sometimes so fine it’s barely visible.  Sometimes swirling and dipping as if a squall has taken hold.  I haven’t been able to settle my mind, my thoughts, my self.  I’ve been intermittently hungry, thirsty, cold, uncomfortable and needing the use the bathroom.  There has been no rhythm.

I feel beaten up with no discernible reason to feel so; raw and skittish and afraid.

Once, a long time ago, I sat on a park bench on a cool summer evening.  The trees were green and the sky was clear, the stars twinkling.  My friend and I had gone to dinner and were just sitting there for more time to talk before the evening eventually ended.  He and I had recently graduated from high school and I thought we’d be friends forever.

We talked about many things that night, but there are two that still linger in my brain, twenty odd years later.  He said character was who we are in the dark.  And then he said, the only that that is constant is change.

We aren’t still friends, which makes me feel a touch sad at times.  He went on to become a professor of philosophy and has published several books.  He seems happy — what I can tell from the distance with which I now see his life.

But he profoundly changed how my mind worked that night.

And as I sit here today, the weather unpredictable, John’s schedule unpredictable, my legs … unpredictable.  I think about those two things … character is who I am in the dark.  Or perhaps, just alone, without any witness.  And even though I cling to routine with an iron grip, the truth is that life will keep changing and morphing.  And what is up will one day be down.  John will change and evolve and I will change and evolve and we will grow and change together.

The more I fight the change, the harder I make it for myself.  I need to just breath deep, and enjoy the ride.

Xox, g