Blip: By Definition: something relatively small or inconsequential within a larger context

We are moving. Soon. The chaos ensues. I feel overwhelmed by my lack of connection with my own self as we have come off a month of dearest visitors and family travel and house hunting and illness. We finally have a house to move into by a stroke of Providential genius and I am genuinely excited to think of life there, but the move. Oh the move. I'm just not sure what other season of life, for a sensitive aesthetic soul, could be more traumatic. The dismantling of a home, of a life, of (very) simple beauties and rhythms under the roof that has housed us for the past 2 years. The dismantling feels dehumanizing in a way, though that may be too strong of a word. And so I'm seeking humanization amidst it all in a few ways...: I'm forcing this writing which feels a small manner of personal and healing for me, even though there are more pressing things to be done. I'm intentionally diving in and out of a couple good books with full conscience of their soul-feeding/thought-life provoking ability (namely, Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited and Mark Helprin's A Soldier of the Great War).  We filmed a wedding this Saturday and, after bonding with the wedding coordinator, I got to take home an enormous display of floral loveliness from one of the tables. And so, amid towers of boxes, I have a veritable visual respite in the creamy parchment of calla lilies arching their graceful necks out of a pitcher of clear water on my table and a small grove of billowing milky hydrangea atop my counter. I'm also trying to stave off the inevitable eating out that happens during these times for as long as possible and so some simple meals have given my hands an outlet for good, wholesome work. For these small things I'm grateful. And also for really functional boxes from the liquor store (perfectly sized!), great packing tape, thick Sharpie markers, audio books, library books, model horses, and baths. The End. For today.