These days I’m very much aware of how, after over a year, I’m still in this major transitional time. I turn 50 on July 4th. All I keep thinking about is how it marks a major switch for me. I’ve lived the life of insanity, of recovery, of a witch without a clue, a witch with a clue, a witch with no home. A woman who gave too much to others and didn’t take care of herself and who imploded. A woman who finally started learning how to take care of herself while still loving and doing loving things for her loved ones. But no more self sacrifice. And I’m just so aware of how all the old stuff is really just sloughing off and I find myself in this heightened state of anticipation for whatever it is that is coming next now that there is room for it.
I’ve had heightened states of anticipation before. Going to SCA events wondering if I was going to meet my White Knight. Nope. Going to bars and clubs and gigs and this and that wondering if he was going to be there. Nope. I’ve been excited many times in my life and been disappointed plenty even when I found someone I thought might be The White Knight. I’ve even spent many consecutive years being my OWN White Knight (those were darned good years).
This feels different. Because I’m not going anywhere hoping something will happen at this one place or event. I’m waiting. I’m going through my days doing what I do. A noon recovery meeting. Fixing dinner. Lunch with friends. Applying for jobs when they come available. Working on my new coven homework. Reading. Hanging with Miss Mitty. And all through it, most of the time, is this sense of something coming. It feels like I’m wide open with hope. Not closed down with the secret fear that the anticipation is misguided or wasted. I know the anticipation is real and that something really is coming. I wait.



