A Muse.

I’d like to sigh my sublime relief. In the past 24 hours, three unrelated, unhappy, and uncomfortable incidents occurred involving people who are each of them very near and dear to our lives. The ramifications in each circumstance could create a ripple effect lasting years. But for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. And in the last hour or so, in each of these spheres, something unseen shifted, and what was painfully shattered and scattering is now reversing, changing direction, and moving toward restoration again. Three breakings, three mendings. Pieces and peaces.

And then, wonderful news in yet another quarter that likely heralds a new era of restoration in lives of people we care about very much, an era that may sooth and begin to reroute years of damage. 

Vague posts. Sometimes that’s all we can do. But things that went wrong are going right.

Thank you to One who is intervening.

A patient walks into a psychiatrist office and says, “I’m a teepee. I’m a wigwam. I’m a teepee. I’m a wigwam.”

Doctor says, “I don’t get it.”

Patient says, “I’m two tents.”

That was one I thought over and over in my head a lot in junior high. It didn’t make me laugh, but it kinda made me feel better.

Some days, weird, uncomfortable sensations come out of nowhere. Subconscious nowhere, probably.

I’m a teepee. I’m a wigwam. 

Humor is a lifesaver.

I had a deadline yesterday, but made an active decision that I wouldn’t take the test. I told my husband, and he accepted it. Then I took a big ol’ nap. But I’m not giving up. I’ll take it when I’ve studied properly. Of course I’ll still have all the butterflies, and of course it’ll still be quite the accomplishment when I pass it.