“Welcome winds of change…” or so I keep telling myself. Repeatedly. Daily. Almost hourly.
From where did this obsessiveness with this phrase come? Ah, well it started last week, as I absently scrolled down my Facebook wall. Meme after meme, post after post, article after article. I was in a “Facebook fog”- a phenomenon as equally weird as the trance-like mode I get into while watching Blue Planet on Netflix.
So, as image and text rolled jerkily before my eyes, my media coma was suddenly halted by this picture of Mary Poppins:
Above it, the words, “Welcome Winds of Change”.
And there it was, just what I needed to hear (well, read). And from my beloved Mary Poppins: even better. (Seriously, I love Mary Poppins, so much so that I follow the Mary Poppins Facebook page. Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke= amazing. Everyone has their thing, right?)
Anyhow, here I am, approaching a crossroads in life, trying my best to welcome the winds of change that have begun to once again blow my way. Funny self observation- I have a habit of perpetuating (to myself) this time and again proven myth that I have a nomad’s spirit; wanderer, free spirit… an untamed wildness, when really? I’m like a tree. Just put me in a sunny spot, with a little shade and some water, and voila! Once I’ve sent my roots way into the ground, it’s then that I’m comfortable enough to let my limbs and branches go wild, safe in the knowledge that there is solid ground beneath my feet (er- roots).
This mounting anxiety, so isolated and singular in it’s source, yet so impactful for all the other aspects of my life, has overtaken my usual practiced calm. I feel un-moored, un-tethered. My inner voice, who often speaks soothing words to my soul, can’t penetrate my mind’s barrier. My impatience for resolution and peacefulness overwhelms the mantras: “Everything’s Gonna Be Alright” (thank you Bob Marley) and “Let go and let God” (thank you little book of inspirational quotes I read in the grocery store check out line) that I keep frantically telling myself. I am the essence of counter-intuitiveness.
Insert my usual: Sigh. I know, I know. This is a semi cryptic post. Sorry for that, and truly? All is well. The things and people who matter most to me, all are well. Life is good, so on so forth. My anxiety is a temporary reaction to an equally temporary problem. It is merely a matter of the first step (towards change, in this case) being the hardest. I also just put my youngest on a plane, and won’t see her for a couple months. It’s a rough morning. I’m emotional, and this is how I vent. Publicly, in print, and rarely in face to face conversation. (My Mom faithfully reads every post, so I have to reassure her, because she will call, text, and comment on this story and ask what’s wrong.)