That's me, laughing at you

It's late to be blogging.  I know.  Especially because of the hard time I've had waking up to start work by nine the past several days.  I haven't.  Started by 9 that is.  I like my mornings, it's the only time I get quiet time, and peace.

Beth told me:  I was in the hot tub with Benj three or four nights ago listening to the wind blow.  I asked him do you hear how deep it sounds?  He didn't get it...

I smile when she tells me this, admiring of her wild wisdom.  The trees moved in constant rustle here for two days. Spoke tree-speak but the air didn't move at all close down to the grass on the land. I get it, I know what it means, know what Beth means.  I recognize when my soul, my "other 92%" (that awareness my brain chooses not to make me conscious of) beckons my attention for example by drawing me, reasonless, to the breeze.  I relish these bits of times.  I bless it as sacred for the tiny moment that it is.

And the changes, they are coming.  But first much will be moved gently away.  I talked about it all with Beth.  In preparation for what will change--what will come, what will end, what will begin again--I am up late, researching cars.  My rental is due back Saturday.  I've been on the internet every night now for three days, edmunds and autotrader and I can tell you all about V6's and 4 cylinders and why CVT's aren't good for the engine if you're looking at an SUV.  Also, side and curtain airbags.  They saved my life and are a necessity if the car is going to get anything more than a POOR rating for safety.  I try to walk the even line between being prepared but knowing I can't be in control.

Life!  You're funny.  That's me, laughing at you giggling at me.

I am looking forward to Thanksgiving, and seeing my family in Oregon.  I am also looking forward to getting paid.  And, I like the idea of seeing the path ahead unfold in a way that was first whispered to me from a steady California wind, high in the Humboldt trees.