The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Since my husband died, I have been in fire patrol mode. One fire pops up, I put it out. The next pops up and again I put it out. It has been exhausting.

I am finally getting ready to sell my one home to move back to my old one. I have home improvements in both properties. I have cleaning and clearing of stuff to get ready to move. On top of it all, I have a full-time job. No time for anything creative. I long to dig into my garden again. I yearn for the day that I can create ceramics once more. I feel the pull of my paintings. And of course, I have some books to write. I wrote the children's book, "Little Raccoon's New Home." I have ideas for many more. If only I were at the end of my journey back home and I could turn my attention to these preferable activities.

Until I can relax and do what I want to do, I must keep my nose to the ground and push forward. I must keep the end goal in mind. I must remind myself that I am near to end of the tunnel. Soon, I will take flight and have the life I want to have.