Days are stacking on top of each other. Sometimes I can see them from the side. Appreciate the accumulation. Other times, I only see from top-down and they all are a single day.
Today is Sunday. We went to church. We leave the house at 7:30 (a luxury since we now have a car!) to catch the 8 am ferry to Auckland City since the earliest sailing to the closer wharf isn’t until 10. Then, it takes 2 Ubers because we don’t fit in one to get to the chapel in Takapuna. The ward is friendly. Living on the North Shore would make the kayak team a reality for Paili. On Tuesday we will look at two houses in the area we could possibly rent.
I spend too much time pouring over listings. Wondering where we should live. Where will we want to be? Should we mimic home (Bellingham) or seek something as different as possible? Comfort, or function?
We could live anywhere. I know. Still, I want to pick a good plot – the right plot. One where we will meet people who will become friends for life.
I also know I want to document this experience. Somehow show the significance of it. The usual mechanisms sound hollow / underwhelming. I want things to be more special than regular life, and this isn’t a positive attribute. Its me seeking validation that I am special. That I matter. I should be content with the most ordinary aspect of my present because it is all a gift. How can I honor that? What of all this ordinariness is worthy of display? In other words, should I invest in the time it will take to present?
I don’t understand why connecting with others – being seen and seeing souls matters so much to me. Maybe it gets in the way, this desire. I feel the edges of it more now because we are still arms-length from so many of the people we now interact with. Or maybe even more than arms-length. Car-length / house-length / polite-distance-from-strangers-length.
The girls just broke a glass while filming video chats with their pals.
Shattering glass is an interrupting, alarming sound in one way. In another, it is lovely and hypnotic. Ice shards colliding in a thawing lake. Happens at Padden, around February or March.
Dot and Pebbles were napping together on the bed. I am writing in a chair in the same room. Dot woke up, slid off the bed, then walked away. Wandered all over the house. Now she’s asleep in my lap.