Moving on, moving up, moving over. Moving.

By last Thursday, I was a shell of myself.  Tired, cranky, and nearly constant heart flutters that the doctor is totally unconcerned about, unless I start having other BIG BAD SYMPTOMS. The four day weekend couldn’t come soon enough.  I dropped my son off at preschool on Friday, came home, sunk into my chair and contemplated my to do list.

I moved, “go to sleep” to the top and did just that for 3 1/2 hours.  I remembered that sometimes low magnesium can cause heart palpitations and popped a supplement, which I haven’t even remembered to take for months now.  A few days of rest, supplements, and things are getting clearer to me now.

There is too much noise in my life.  The noise inside my head with its constant litany of what I have to do for school which is a never ending list that should not reasonably be expected of one person. The noise of others political opinions when my mother tells me in the middle of the McDonald’s playland “When you wake up and realize what HE (Obama) is doing, you let me know,” or when an unemployed relative posts nonsense about the (nonexistent) 28th Amendment and I can’t quite walk away from Facebook fast enough.  The noise of teaching in a politically intolerant atmosphere where “I voted for Obama” has to be as closely a guarded secret as something that is shameful and criminal.  The noise of trying to refind my spiritual center in the middle of a life that is structured in such a way that for me, it is simply impossible.

Changes need to be made.

I asked a dear priest friend once, “how do you know when it is time to move on?”  He told me, “If you listen carefully, you really will know.”

It’s time to move on.  I need to find my peace again.  I need my future to look different than my present, and I hope it’s a wonderful ride.

If not, I’ll have to send my mother a postcard from the new communist state and tell her “you were right.”


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