Moving

I ran into a...um...community acquaintance tonight. I was, of course, shoving a cookie into my mouth as she flagged me down and during our brief conversation I kept trying to wipe my mouth just in case I had chocolate caking the corners. Standard operating procedure.

I suddenly felt bad about not inviting her to the wedding. I then decided I didn't care because we are moving.

Ah moving. Every once and awhile I get the sweet taste of what it must feel like for someone who moves as a way to run from life's unpleasantness. It provides a care free avenue b/c well, you won't have to clean up the mess you may be approaching. I admit, in some small way, our move is running. But I feel like instead of running away, it's running toward. Yes, it does afford me moments like the one tonight in the parking lot where I can take all the complicated emotions this person evokes, wad them up into a ball and toss them into the nearest emotional garbage disposal. So, yes, that falls firmly into the running away camp. But then I think about what we are running toward. Evening walks, a friend recently pointed out. Cheese tasting parties. Calling someone last minute for an evening of conversation. Community. Something I've never felt here but for fleeting moments of illusion.

Good bye illusion.