Still Moments.

Today there is sunshine on brown streets and my anxiety is back. Life is a million things at once: anticipating my next screening in a month, preparing the big move to Vancouver, and the seemingly endless tasks, uncertainty, fear, and excitement that goes with all of it.

Right now, I am reminded of why I began this blog. It's about living and engaging in the moment, it's here for me to sink myself into my writing and let that be enough because it usually is. It's about enjoying life and it's wildness, even when things are scary and unsure, it's about feeling all the feelings, instead of numbing them. And when I can do that, I get stronger, I realize that I can get through whatever life brings. I realize that I can plan, but that life is unexpected - that's what makes life painful, but it's also what makes it so precious and endearing. Writing helps ease the anxiety - it brings me back to the feeling workshop I used to give at my old job - it's a healthy way of coping with an emotion.

So now I'm looking out at the sun on the street and how it is drying up the dirty snowbanks in the fronts of the neighbours' yards. Crinkly brown, bud-less shrubs and trees loom around three white houses. A bald man in jeans walks by, sun gleaming on his head. I hear the deep breathing of my dog in the room. And for this moment there is only stillness.