Once I get rolling with a big, annoying project, I’m like a dog on a bone. Why prolong the torture? This week’s annoying task was to ferry box after box of belongings from our old house to our new house. So, every day, for hours on end, the kids and I loaded up the van and shuttled it over to the new house. They would play while I, head down, boxes stacked too high, shuffled back and forth (and back and forth, and back and forth…). It’s all I could think about.
On Thursday, I tripped in front of the house, over nothing, like I like to do, and freshly laundered sheets and blankets flew everywhere. I lay there and cringed at my leaf-strewn pillow cases. I caught my breath. Then I looked up to see a purple azalea bush leaning over me. I took it in, backed by the clear blue sky, alive with bumbling bees, and listened to the kids’ banter. Where the heck did that come from? And was it my imagination or was it actually shaking itself at me? (It was my imagination – – I’m sleep deprived, not crazy.)
I had looked over the entire property just last weekend and there had not been even one flower in bloom. Now it was wide awake! I missed it all with my obsessive moving.
It had my attention now. So did the other one blossoming at the other door.
I think our little house was reminding me to slow down and “enjoy” this move, stressful as it might be at times.