I’m listening to the rain fall in the empty parking lot next to my building. My cat is laying nearby, playing with some toys and occasionally nosing at me. I am reminded of the house I grew up in, with a skylight over my bed that thumped pleasantly with every raindrop. Sometimes it would get so loud that I thought the sky was crashing down on me.
I feel adrift a lot of the time these days. My life has been full of upheaval, but still fits within the same crusty structure as it did before. The core is empty now. Or more accurately, I am aware that it was for a while. It’s hard to know how to fill it up without doubting each choice. It’s hard to make those choices in the first place. One step at a time is the only way to get it done, though.
I am thankful for all the people I have in my life, old and new. I’m thankful for the little things that I’m pushing myself towards, and the fulfillment I’m getting out of them. I’m thankful that I can still lay on the floor by the window, and listen to the rain.
