Unsteady earth

I have to find a new apartment and move. Like now.

I have to feed the hungry piggy bank. With freelance work. But how? And where?

I have to bury Him. And beat the Virus. And fall asleep before 4 a.m. One of these friggin' days.

I have to decide: Why. Am I here. In Berlin. At all.

Also: I have to fly to San Francisco. Mom needs me. For reals.

Last Thursday I saw my  holistic healer. I am lost, I said. No solid ground beneath my feet. Nothing in my life not unstable.

She looked at me kindly. She said: It's always most wobbly right before we fly.

Then she handed me two snow-white swan feathers. And sent me on my way.

Comments

[Julie @ the calm before the stork]

She's right. Hold on!