Just breathe; it would be better to keep my head in the clouds today.

Tossing and turning since 2 a.m. I finally gave up at 4:15.  It’s been this way for weeks.  The movie in my head incessant.  Mantras to relax, useless.  Tranquil Hearts of Space music that usually helps me to let go cannot seem to penetrate the wall of anxiety and stress. I think of blue skies and a serene ocean as I take in a deep breath and slowly exhale. I put feet to the floor at 4:16 a.m.  I end my nagging thoughts with this:  It would be better to keep my head in the clouds today.  

So we’ve packed up the car–Beverly Hillbillies-style and have made our way out of middle-earth land to Northern Virginia.  I am back to where I met Rocket-man…back to the city where I ran hilly roads and miles and miles of trails during my first fourteen-year stint of living here.

It’s back to the past, with an uncertain future.

No.  The house has not sold.

No…we don’t have a new place.

Yes….we have a plan.  Sort-of.

In fact, when queried about our plans I can only answer with “well, things are in a constant state of flux at the moment.”  I’ve been clamoring for a “pick-it-and-stick” approach but that has been difficult to achieve for reasons beyond a house on the market for over 17 months.

I know what you’re thinking.  I’ve been carping on about living in middle-earth-land for quite some time.  I should be doing cartwheels, right?   Instead, it’s my stomach doing them.

I’m trying to put my finger on it.  Why am I in knots?

The Unknown.  And, oh for heavens sake….isn’t that ridiculous?  I cannot control what hasn’t happened (and may never) anyway. 

I used to practically brag about my ability to go with the flow.  After all, I was an Air Force brat who grew up in a tumultuous household.  Add to that seventeen years as an Army wife. Then came divorce, single-mom years and full-time employment.  Later, there would be another attempt at marriage (this one, happily, much more successful) and then back to school with a forty year-old brain (in classrooms rooms filled with twenty-somethings) for a master’s degree.

Yes.  I can absolutely “do” change.

Well then, why the heart-pumping anxiety?

Simply…. I didn’t expect that change for me would seem more daunting standing on the precipice of my “golden” years.

Ahh…  But, I’m not the only one!

The Poodle is panting as I write.  Poor baby.

He’s anxious and confused.  Plus, he’s barking more than usual which is quite frankly,  annoying!  I suppose I should cut him some slack.  After all, so far in his poodle life I have yanked him from his Southern California paradise nearly five years ago transporting him to a secluded, quiet neighborhood devoid of daily romps in dog parks, and worse yet, no poodle buddies to hang with.  Now,  he’s got to be thinking “here we go again” as the familiar walking spots give way to new streets with lots of cars, and a whole new smorgasbord of sights, sounds, and smells–and yes, new canines to get to know.  Sure, he’s got one buddy–a cousin of sorts–in this temporary place but surely he must miss his daily meet-up with little Miss Daisy down the street.  And I am positive he’s wondering where Mr. Bobble-Head man is….that curiously odd fellow who jogged in our neighborhood most evenings, his head bobbing side to side in such an exaggerated fashion that my boy would stop and stare (as if in amazement) every single time.   Dude. That’s got to hurt!

No doubt we will encounter all manner of oddities now that we are back in the thick of BIG city life.  There are bound to be many tense, stressful moments in the days and weeks ahead.

One thing is for sure: If I am going to get through this new limbo state with head and heart intact I’ve got to have a new approach.

Steve Winwood comes to mind.

New Mantra?  Just Roll With It Baby.