I should be working - though with everything sloppy and less than 30 mins left in my day, here I am. Not working. Well - working through some shit though, if that counts for anything.
A lot of stuff is in my head. I keep meaning to sit and write, but it all goes blank. There is simply too much. A lot of change, most of it good, some bittersweet, and some just an inevitable part of getting older and bodies changing.
I’m currently sitting at the back of the property I manage, a small but beautiful piece of land in Western New York. I hear birds, crows, hawks, the constant dripping of melting snow, cars off in the distance, but no wind today. It is very still.
I smell spring. Not just hints of spring, but real smells of spring. Earth waking up, moisture in the air, hints of sweet meadow and woods, mixed with the earthy smell of wet composting leaves. It smells amazing.
I now feel the slight breeze that just started on my cheek, the occasional drop of water from the melt, the soft earth beneath my feet, the rough bark of trees, and gentle fuzz of the newest buds emerging.
I see change coming. Prints of critters waking up, the trees and plants waking up, green and browns emerging from the wet white cover, the destruction of winter storms, and take in the amazing view I have from here.
A lot of today has been wandering, appreciating, and thanking the land for the opportunity and growth I’ve found here. I’m not leaving exactly, but I will soon no longer be manager/caretaker of these woods. It is a good change, but very bittersweet. If you’ve read one of my last day logs, I did get that job. And this is technically the first week of it - even though today is still a property day. This land and the other I work on have played such an important role in my healing and changing, and I am going to miss it. However, stagnation is not something I do well, and so up I go.
So much is in my head, I don’t even know how to articulate or sort it out, or even say WHY it is taking up so much space. So much of it is good, amazing actually, and yet I sit here and just want to cry and be held. Or pulled out of my head and this reality, just for a while, and let my brain melt - without alcohol or cannabis. I need to drum hard, fight hard, or fuck hard.
My brain needs a reset button - not a complete wipe, things really are good, but perhaps it’s because it’s so much at the same time. A bit overwhelming, I’ll manage, but a good defragmenting would not be the worst thing. I need to write more. I need to break it down into the pieces, and start there: work, home, Her, you, my crazy dreams, my past, and my own changes. That’s a start. I guess this one is sort of a work focus. It’s a start.
I just heard an owl, and now it’s time to go.