It’s a chilly morning and the covers are friendly and welcoming. I like chilly because it invites cosy. And I like cosy because it is.
E is in a hurry to leave and I can’t find it. I look at the clock and hear that there aren’t many minutes left until we need to go, but the urgency hasn’t hit me yet. Things tend to work out, I suppose. Nothing ever prevented me from being here, now, and that’s not likely to change. There is no place else to be.
This hand just writes and I watch and when it is done I will see what happens then. I notice that when I believe I need to be someplace else that I get stressed, aggravated, and the sense of urgency feels very real. I prefer this. The situation is no different – time wise we are in a rush – it is only that in my mind, in this moment, I am here, not there.
And that could change.