I started to type a phrase into the text box, and got only as far as the word “next”, and sad numbly for a moment, struck by the observation that it definitely appeared to be spelled quite incorrectly… although… it isn’t. Huh. I sip my coffee, and stare at it awhile, no longer certain where I was going with the thought, at all.

Why am I writing today? I mean… routine, sure. It’s a practice, but… this morning I struggle to connect it with my thoughts or experience, and that, too, strikes me as strange.

I hear the trickle of the aquarium in the background. I’ve been ready to “decommission” it for several weeks now. The livestock are gone (some due to age, some through misadventure – a power outage while I was away – and some re-homed, prepared to drain the tank). I am away to often to care for my aquarium easily, and I am living a life that no longer requires serious masking sounds to ease my anxiety; there is no yelling in the background here, no day-to-day tension between others, or infiltrating my own experience. Those conditions, taken together, result in the aquarium becoming a higher maintenance element of my surroundings than I want to make time for. I chose change instead… then sort of got stalled half way through, because I am also quite human. I haven’t been particularly self-conscious about it – I’ll get to it, perhaps this weekend?

I look around this room, and through the open doorway, into the next. There always seems to be a “next” – a next task, a next project, a next moment, a next weekend… but we are mortal creatures. One day, “next” is also… “last”. I sigh out loud and sip my coffee, committing silently to tidying up and finishing things and putting stuff right and following up on loose ends… all the things. I regularly do. I often still end the day with some “next” thing that I really need to wrap up… the next day.

I smile at myself. This morning, a great many of my “nexts” are about the upcoming weekend, and about my Traveling Partner. We shared a great phone call yesterday, and I came away from it delightedly expecting that he could realistically show up more or less any time at all… maybe even… the next day. Wow. That lifted me up in the most remarkable way!  It also filled my head with shit I now rather urgently want to get done, because I like to be a good hostess, and with the busy weekend ahead, and a possibly imminent visit from my Traveling Partner, things like that one waste basket I overlooked emptying are really standing out to me now. lol I find myself thinking about detailing the bathrooms, and changing the linens, and wondering if the patio door glass is clean, and how long has it been since I dusted? Already I am impatient about the work day ahead. Already I am eager to return home and get to work on the housekeeping. lol

I sip my coffee, think about life and love and wonder “what’s next?” I guess I’ll have to begin again to find out. 🙂