I have concluded that one of the healthiest things one can do when one’s inside space is in an uproar from deconstruction is to extend oneself to the outside space. This is especially relevant now with the promise of an enduring spring seeming more realistic.
I didn’t have the outside option during the first deconstruction. I was cloistered for months in misery that was compounded by insurance company feet dragging, weather interruptions and construction scheduling mishaps. Five months in total – yes, sir – that wore on me.
Of course, I am more seasoned now as I enter deconstruction period two – I can assure you this will not be another five month event (but likely will move into late June for sure). The insurance company is much more motivated this time around and my patience for excuses is greatly abbreviated.
Which puts me back to where I started this monologue – the saving grace – an indicator that the universe recognizes that I am in need of relief. I started humming this morning knowing that I was going to get outside and spend some time with my limited gardening skills in the fresh air and sunshine. The song stuck in my mind is an old one written by George Harrison and most notably sung by The Beatles – Here Comes The Sun. The line playing over and over again in my mind ends up being more of a mantra than merely a simple line in a song – “Here comes the sun, here comes the sun, and I say it’s all right.”
It’s all right.
Day six hundred and seventy-eight of the new forty – obla di obla da