In comparison to the fervor of last year, where everything was moving quickly, and change was happening at an incredible pace… the new year has felt strange.  Good, in some ways.  I finally have time to relax and enjoy the things I’ve worked hard for, but off-kilter, because there aren’t deadlines.  There aren’t things that have to be done immediately.

Now I wait.  I’m waiting for a lot of things.  Namely, for an upcoming trip to Japan.  I’m getting excited about that, although, I’m worried a little bit about my passport.  I hate waiting for critical things, but I can’t hurry the government or the USPS.

The hardest part of anticipation is maintaining that level of inner emotional churn.  The questions born of excitement: What if I…?  When will I…?  How will I…?  Did I forget something?  How long as it been since I last checked…?

I am not good with patiently waiting.  It’s something I’m working on because life is as much about waiting as it is about doing. I’ve been filling my time with copious amounts of World of Warcraft, as well as some crafts I got for Christmas.  Painting, knitting, attempted crocheting (miserably, but I’ll learn!); I have projects in each, in different stages of finish.  I also want to amp up my jewelry making, too.  I miss making it, but I’ve found myself short of attention span these days.  It is the beast of anticipation, gnawing away at the wall of my resolve.

Two months.  It haunts me, this timeframe.  Will I have enough time to get everything done that I need to?  I have wasted so much time already but will continue to waste more.  Time can seem both abundant and extinct; at once I’m flush with free time to do the things I want to do, and yet, I find myself wondering where it all went.  How did I get as far into the new year as I did?

I’m in-between writing projects, hesitating to move forward in case I must go back.  An idea is percolating in my thoughts, dripping into half-formed ideas.  I hope to use my trip to Japan this year to fuel the creativity beast within and formulate a unique story.

It’s a different story from the last one.  A different world crafted of … what?  I am not sure.  I only have half-formed thoughts and ideas.  What do I want to tell?  I am not sure, but it grows within me.

Whatever world is getting built, it grows brighter each day.  One day, I’ll know it, and I’ll know the stories within it.

And one day, the story that’s meant to be told will be born with the birth of the one expected to live it.

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