A State of Grace, With a Side of Blunt Truth

The state of my world right now is a state of grace and peace. Along with a houseful of love and fur babies. 

I almost hesitate to write that down. After the last few months, saying something like that aloud feels suspiciously like tempting the universe to hand me another administrative clusterfuck.

But there it is. Peace. And I intend to enjoy it without checking behind the curtains for the next catastrophe.

There is still money owed to me. I would certainly appreciate it arriving sooner rather than later, preferably without requiring a congressional inquiry, three tracking numbers, and a ritual performed over a postal sorting machine. But I am confident it will find me.

That confidence is a welcome change. There is something exhausting about having to chase what already belongs to you, particularly when the people holding it get to go home at five while you lie awake doing arithmetic.

For now, I have stepped away from that particular midnight accounting department.

Last week, I went with my mother to the War Eagle Craft Fair and a family reunion in Oklahoma. I got to go somewhere because there was something to enjoy at the other end of the drive. Crafts. Family. Time with my mother. An actual excursion beyond the narrow territory of whatever needed fixing, paying, answering, or following up on.

I needed that.

We talk about getting away as though it must involve an ocean view and a cocktail wearing a tiny umbrella. Sometimes it involves a craft fair and a trip to Oklahoma with your mother. Sometimes the important part is simply that you get to be a person having an experience, with a little space in your head to notice it.

Dakota has a job. That deserves its own paragraph, so here it is.

Dakota has a job.

A few words, and a considerable amount of breathing room.

I have also retained an attorney to take care of an onerous task that has occupied entirely too much of my time and energy. I have completed their to-do list, supplied what they need, and handed over the work I hired them to do.

There is considerable satisfaction in that last part.

Every unanswered question, missing document, and unfinished task had apparently taken up residence in my brain and started receiving mail. Getting my part finished has given me some of that space back.

There are still processes underway. There will be waiting. I expect there will be more paperwork, because bureaucracy reproduces by photocopy. But today, I know I have taken the steps available to me. I have representation. I have done what they asked.

Today, that is enough.

I am learning to let a good day remain a good day. To enjoy a trip with my mother without mentally deducting the pleasure from some imaginary allowance. To appreciate progress while the rest is still working its way through offices and inboxes.

I have spent enough time braced for impact that relaxing takes a little practice. My shoulders occasionally need reminding that we are allowed to lower them. My brain still likes to bring up unresolved business at inconvenient hours, as though worrying at two in the morning might improve someone else’s processing speed.

It has yet to produce evidence of that.

So I am giving myself permission to live while things are pending.

To write. To settle into my home. To enjoy time with my family. Especially that grandbaby. Oh she is just a little slice of heaven.  To notice that some of the things I was desperately trying to get through are now behind me.

There is a particular grace in being able to look around and feel content with the day you actually have. I have missed that feeling. I am grateful to have it back.

The money will find me. The attorney has what they need. Dakota has a job. I got to spend time with my mother, wander a craft fair, and attend a family reunion.

And now I get to sit down and write something that does not begin with “I am following up regarding.”

That alone is damn near a spiritual experience.