"Liminality"

Liminality is my new favorite word. It is my (not-so-new) existence. As quoted from my deity-sister, who quoted from her mother (my Other Mother, if you will), liminality is "the middle stage of change, the threshold between what was, and what is yet to be." I feel it in my bones, in my being, and in my decision to pack up my life and move to a state where I know next to nobody. I don't know where I will work, or where I will live. But I know that I will live. And I am not frightened. I am excited! I am anxious! I am a little nervous, I will admit. But all of the good feelings take up all the space and leave little room for fear. I'm learning that this is a good way to live one's life: leave very little space for fear. And don't let fear over-stay its welcome.

Reflection: Valentine's Day at the Wentworth went very well! Everyone enjoyed everything, the menu was fantastic, brunch went smoothly, and we didn't run out of anything! I even got a second-wind at about 8 o'clock Sunday night (hour 12 of my shift), and was bouncy and excited. Probably because 9 o'clock was the end of my shift and I was excited to get home to my warm, comfortable cloud of a bed!

And then... Monday... I had a day off! Finally! It was so nice to sleep in until 10am. I spent the morning in bed, reading, relaxing. Then my roommate came home in the afternoon and we made mimosas to celebrate the return of "our house" to being Our House! (Our other two roommates, who were more like squatters than actual roommates, moved out on Sunday). We rearranged furniture, bought new pillows and a new rug, and rearranged our collection of wall clocks (15 and counting!) Tuesday brought with it a wedding cake tasting for a friend of mine, almost a foot of snow, and just a pleasant day. I love the way the seacoast looks under a blanket of freshly fallen snow, especially when it is the light and fluffy stuff. You know, the way it sparkles in the soft light of the street lights or porch lights. The way it creates almost a canopy in the trees, blanketing the branches and bowing them down, almost like nature bowing to your royalty as you cautiously creep your way along the freshly plowed roads towards your destination. Something about the freshness of the snow, before it is salted, sanded, and slushed by the hands of man, is so peaceful and beautiful. Ironically, it is quite heart-warming.

I am off to try and travel a good road in Dreamland. I was rewarded for my patience this evening with getting to spend time with my goddess-sister and my (Sleepy) Bear, who have journeyed from the Frozen Northland to spend a few days here before one heads back North, and one heads to the extreme South. Viva la Mexico! (... I don't think that's what I meant to say, but it's all I could conjure). Tomorrow brings work, wedding cake preparation, and a delightful dinner with my Other Family, whom I've missed terribly but am extremely grateful that they take me under their loving wings whenever I need. And then a quiet night with the Bear. Life is good :-)