Poised for Change

I sat in my front yard for a while this afternoon and watched the sunlight reflected on the lake. Brilliant flashes and sparkles of light danced on water and wind. A moment in time, remembered in a blog, my mind's eye, and then gone.

I turned 48 last week. While where was no existential crisis, I did reflect that I've reached yet another birthday without having yet attained many of my life goals. I still work on my licensure requirements, planning to finish December 2012. I'm still living on trailer subfloors and dreaming of home improvements. My partner and I continue to work our ways toward her transition when Cameron will be the name everyone knows her/him as. I continue to wait for the day when I tell Scrooge goodbye.

When I was in my late 30s, He Who Shall Be Nameless, did a numerology reading for me. It might be the only thing about me that he ever got really right. He told me that my 40s would be a time of incredible growth and change. He also told me that my 50s wouldn't bring about so much growth, but would bring my dreams and financial security. Bring it on! I'm so ready.

Hermione sleeping on the waterbed this afternoon.

And yet. As I type this, a tiny kitten lies on my chest, satisfied in her supreme entitlement. My partner, whom I spoiled with homemade soup and homemade wheat bread, is waiting for me in the next room. The utilities are on, we have two cars parked outside, and I have a job. More, I sat in my front yard today and watched light dance on water and thought of my godson, my sister of the heart, of my daughter of the heart, and of my lover and thought how grateful I am to have them in my life, and how much meaning their presence brings to my life.

Camron and I are waiting for the time to go to Portland. I watch our investment and pray it will bring the financial security we need to meet the next step of our calling. I dream of a homet here, a building next door for a studio and space to do therapy. I want to set up a non profit. Maybe put a "blessing" jar by the door. Would be cool for folks to drop a minimal payment in the jar on their way out. Or come to use the extra studio space for art therapy, and leave a small payment for space on their way out. We value what we pay for, especially where therapy is concerned, and $10 is plenty to meet the cost of the space....something to think about anyway.

Cameron, reading over my shoulder, tells me I just didn't have the right goals in my 30s. She says I should have been dreaming of marrying a transgender man, moving to Portland by way of South Carolina, and practicing making homemade bread. Well, I added some of that myself, but she'd say if she wasn't out walking the dog.

As the wheel turns, so does my life. We move into the dark of the year, the time of introspection, the time of accounting, the time before we begin to plan again. I want to rejoice in the harvest. I want to hear the voice of Oak King, to walk with him as be becomes the sacrifice of wheel. I want to align my life with wheel. Slow my pace, stay ready for change, but not so lost in the preparation that I miss the dance of the wind and the sound of his pipes.



Blessed be.