Happy

I am in a packing rut... as in, I just can't do it.

I sit and stare at my house and wonder how everything will make it's way into boxes....

Is there a real life fairy godmother with a magic wand who could help me out?

Could I just wake up to everything packed, moved and stored?

Only in a fairytale I guess...

On an awesome note... my husband has been an amazing, powerful, connected and happy man lately.

Which means I am happy. :)

So so happy.

Not at all motivated to actually get anything done.... but happy. And happy is good.

Every other time we have moved (which is a lot), I have carried the full emotional burden. The entire job of packing has fallen on me. And it has been crushingly stressful.

I have always entered into a new home with a sense of loneliness and sadness.

Not this time. THIS time my man has opened a new door for me. He hasn't placed a moment of pressure on me. He has instead offered me a new space of rest. He's allowed me to spend my days with my kids at the park (I've packed a FEW boxes in the daytime) and happily practicing Holy Yoga.

Let me just say that I get it that moving should be the work of both spouses. We should work together...

And we are. Every night we pack, we move things into storage, we plan for our new small living space.

But this is time of healing for me. We are facing a giant. A giant giant. But Joe has not flinched once. He keeps humbly leading the way into an ocean deep peace. And that makes me happy.

So happy.

This is the first time in my married life that I have not resented the overwhelming weight of MOVING.

In fact, right now he's making a storage run and I am sitting on the bed writing this post.

How's that for happy? ;)