The fires that were started by lightning over a week ago caused a thick pall of smoke to blanket the sky all week. 800 fires raging throughout California and not enough human power to tackle them all. The sky has been beige, lungs have been stressed, and if you step outside it smells like a campfire. I've felt like I'm wearing an iron helmet all week, or like someone dropped the ceiling down to five feet. I've been restless and stir-crazy, cooped up inside, avoiding the smoke, and the lack of oxygen has made me groggy and tired. But yesterday, blue sky was actually visible with wispy white clouds, and I spent the afternoon at the river, completely restorative. This morning it still smells like a cookout outside and the ridge beyond my house is hazy, but overhead is blue sky, and I'm grateful for that.
The blossoming in my relationship with J continues to feel miraculous, even as our fears, anxieties, old wounds occasionally resurface. I marvel at the ease with which we are dealing with them, and the clarity of the communication between us.
Meanwhile, looking for another housemate for the open room in my house. The one I had lined up fell through yesterday, two days before the first, leaving me to come up with that part of the mortgage again. Darn!
Oskar, my sweet but demanding dog, is happy in his new home with neighbors of mine. I still miss him a lot and am also enjoying the greater freedom of my days.
I keep delving into this feeling of letting life come to me, letting things flow in their own way and timing, finding and feeling the flow, less resistance, less striving and pushing against things, more trust.
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