Day Break

The price for waking early will come later in the day, late afternoon or so, when I'll be struggling to function, but for now it's worth the cost to have this time in the not-quite-dark but not-quite-light time. Windows and french doors wide open to the chill night air of the desert. Unseen birds chirping brightly. The faint hint of traffic sounds in the distance. Quiet inside to be cherished and nurtured for awhile at least. I could fill the quiet with Morning Joe's audio graffiti or NPR's take on the news. Then I would have to face the world and what's happening out there. For now, it's enough to mull and muse and meander through my own puddle of thoughts. Pondering the future. Replaying interviews. Wondering which positions I should pursue - and whether I'm being realistic or reaching too high or not high enough. Anticipating the first day of a new job - and how to make it work with commitments I've already made to be away. Thinking still about text from last night and what it means to be "scattered" from "home base." That seems to be what I am missing most right now - a sense that I have a home base, from which I can work on a long list of creative projects. I've been paralyzed by uncertainty - am I leaving or staying? Will this interview lead to a job or not? How much longer can I afford to live in this house? But if I move out, then I really don't have a home base at all or my own space... The same questions and ideas on their regular rotation through my waking hours.

The birds are singing in the distance now and the traffic noises are louder. It's not yet bright but the dark is erased. Must be time for another cup of coffee.

Time Traveler

Early Sunday morning. Early morning cool air infused with oleander blossoms. Freshly brewed cup of coffee. Classical piano on stereo. What's wrong with this picture? That I'm writing this and not immersed in final touches on a sermon, not filled with the anxious anticipation and intensity of preparing to lead and teach. Today, all I have to do is prepare myself to worship, dragging along another set of rejections, more negative baggage.

Tomorrow I begin work as a consultant with another organization, so that will be a new kind of busy - learning as much as I can as quickly as I can - the nature of the interim specialty. And working on search. And working on projects for family. And... and... but all with my life on hold, unsettled, as if I'm about to set off on another journey, just don't know when or where and can't keep bags packed because still using them.

This photo was in my grandmother's brag book. Mom says it's me. I recognize the suitcase but not the porch. I look so serious. Am I going home or going away? That's still the question.