The bamboo is clanking in the wind making sounds like a thousand wild geese. Texas has been cold. Outside my window dusk is settling and a storm is supposed to come. If I remember who I am, nothing can faze me. If I do not, well… you know how it is when you believe everything that goes through your head. Or your body for that matter.

Establishing a home has been bumpy. Recovering from nomad-hood is a slow process. Yesterday I was told the job I was applying for has many benefits including 25 paid days off per year. My mind froze. When is the last time I did anything for a year? I guess I’m hoping to. Though the thought of it is terrifying. As if excitement is dying and will forever be buried in my boggy past.

Ok mother, I know, I can hear your thoughts right now. ‘It is a whole new adventure,’ you are telling me. And of course, I know that. I’ve always believed in taking the path most terrifying to me. That is why I choose to try working with abused and neglected children. Why I flew to Costa Rica with $400 in my bank account. Why I’m here. Waiting. Allowing. Listening. Going for it. Move forward or die. That has always been my choice.

I gather my thoughts sometimes as if they were leaves in my garden and I was afraid of them flying away in the wind. At least I don’t try to make them stay on the tree anymore. I’d better be careful or I’ll end up sleeping with a compost pile; which is what most of us carry around in our bodies and minds anyway. Ease of release I heard the other night. Let the past fly away and the future disintegrate.