Questions without answers

Questions without answers

Another week, another brief moment to meditate and purge my mind of the overflowing thoughts that slows down the thinking process. Closing down the house, packing, taking care of Song, and all of the other daily activities did not create enough space in the week for me to write during the originally agreed upon schedule. All the same, I find it refreshing to write from the couch of a friend in Western Massachusetts. New environments do not necessarily equate to new invigorating thoughts. I know, somewhat of a contradictory concept, but this is what a slow uncaffeinated mind was able to come up with.

Tomorrow we journey to Woods Hole, the dream  location on the Cape. A childhood Garden of Eden for Youme, perhaps the original YoumeLand. While I wish for my heart and mind to be free to enjoy each and every moment of this journey, I feel a pull, a strange desire to make sure that I am giving my all to project considerations i.e employment, pre-NFB National Convention considerations. It's going to be a fast transitional journey to see friends only to return to Miami for the packing process for another journey. I await my mind open, wanting to be receptive to the answers to the many questions that plague my conscious thoughts. If i think about the overarching question that fuels my imagination, I come up with: am I doing the right thing? Selfishness, a desire to seek an idealistic dream, wanting to do the right thing, all of these concepts create an unrealistic haze in my mind when I wish to make a decision on the next steps to take during this transitional period in our lives.

As I awoke this morning at 3:45 AM, I reached for the remnants of a nightmare only to be overcome by a sense of uneasiness. Let me be free. Let me be home. I feel like a spoiled child yelling in to the wind as patient parents wait close at hand to whip the tears from my cheeks. I turn to find a source of comfort only to be greeted by a monstrous entity with bared teeth and outstretched claws. I am alone. I cry some more an eventually fall back to sleep. Why me? Why now? If not now, then when? More questions and even less answers.

Olive, the cat jumps up on the back of the sofa to maintain the higher ground above my head. I self-consciously lean forward not wanting to allow myself to be ruled by a cat.