I hate moving. Gets me all surly and testy, and forlorn. Now it looks like we’ll need to leave this sweet little cozy spot which we moved to about 6 months ago. The thing is, I was surly and testy and forlorn when we moved here, and now I love it. It has awakened a sense of hospitality in me, which I guess I never explored before. But something about the place and the setting and situation just makes me say to everyone, “come on over!” And for some weird reason, they have done just that. And for even weirder reasons, these guests have energized and excited me. So much so, that I’m fairly depressed to think about moving back to some small apartment (which used to provide a very happy, cozy place to hide from the world).
I guess it raises a few questions. The first of which is, “why do I need to move? I just got here, and haven’t even unpacked yet!” (which is actually more of a whine than a question). But the better question is, “why awaken an interest which will likely find very little expression in the near future?”. It just doesn’t make sense to me.
I was looking for some old document on the computer the other day, and saw the text of an email which I wrote about 9 months ago. I had just quit my job (and my cozy apartment), and likened the change to heading into a Labyrinth. Which is a kind of worshippy maze which one travels as an aid to prayer and contemplation. This morning, I was thinking that I might be headed back out of the labyrinth. But the more I think about it, the more it seems that these twists and turns and (apparent) dead ends are all a part of the journey.
Which really stinks.