I dreamed I was pregnant last night.
(I’m not.)
I was pregnant and waiting for the labor pains to start. I wasn’t dreading labor — my attitude in the dream was very much, “Been there, done that, let’s get this party started.” I just wanted it to start.
(Very much how I felt getting induced with Michael, as a matter of fact. In the dream, I got to eat food, though.)
This feeling of being pregnant, of something pending, of waiting for something to start: it infuses my life right now.
I do feel much of the time that I am waiting for the next thing.
Maybe it’s just because so much of my life is about planning and doing for upcoming events: a weekend away at Seven Springs; the upcoming school year for Flora; my sister’s wedding.
Maybe because I have a creeping-to-overwhelming dissatisfaction (ebbs and flows) with my current work-outside-the-home situation.
I am full. Of potential and possibility, of hope and dream, of the future. I am poised, I am on the cusp.
The waiting is hard, as is the uncertainty of what is next. Maybe it is just events. But maybe it is time for a change. What do I do? Where do I go? How do I do it?
I try to be quiet and be still and listen. Be open, be patient, be strong. Pray and listen.
Something is coming, something is waiting.
Only the rest of my life.
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What do you do when you feel change in the air? Do you wait, or do you seize the day?
