Tuesday morning I was freaking out. I tried to relax, sitting on the porch looking out over the BQE to the New York City skyline. The sound of jackhammers and the constant construction in Long Island City was scratching my brain.

“I’m a little on edge,” I admitted as I nearly spilt my tea.
“No? You?” he smiled. It’s so strange having someone else there to witness all your moods, to react, and to call you out on occasion.

We’d just returned from four luxurious days in Vermont. The air was clean and blue, and the trees were green, green, green. We were buzzed by hummingbirds as we sat on the porch drinking tea and reading the paper. We hiked, went kayaking and swimming in the lake. We went to the drive-in, saw a meteor shower and played lots of Boggle. Our bathing suits lay out to dry on the sun porch while we napped. It was glorious, to say the least.

One day back in the city and I could feel the tension returning, creeping up into my shoulders and spreading out low across my back.

Today is my last day at work, and next week I start a brand new job. Still advertising, after everything. But the plan is to settle the seesaw a little bit and encourage a healthier “work-life balance,” as HR calls it.

In the meantime though, I’m carving out some time for myself. While I recognize that all these changes are good – for good, will be good, about to be good, too good to get used to – I still need some time to myself to sit and sort and breathe.

So, up to Kripalu I go, to bend and swim and not talk – to remember what is good and to fall back in love with change. Because, right now, I’m a little on edge.


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