I am uncomfortable, but soon I won't be.

It's showtime.

I start school today.

In ten months, I'll have a degree in Psychology.

But right now, I am uncomfortable.

More than what I'll learn, I'm looking forward to handling myself better when I encounter what I don't know; things like linking to the university network, using unfamiliar software to take notes, even where and what I'll eat during the day make me low-level panicky.

I'm looking forward to allowing things to remain undone until I can get to them. My essay didn't go out. My birthday letter for my son isn't done. I haven't planned and shopped for this week's meals. I haven't changed my closet over or paid the bills early like I planned to.

I'm practicing focused and delayed thinking. I  have one job today and it is to dress, charge my devices,  enter my destination on my GPS,  find the building, find my seat and just observe what is happening. There isn't a thing I have to actually do, other than that.  

I am not unprepared.

I am not over my head.

I am not wrong to think I can do this.

My life will change for the better, starting today. 

But right now, I am uncomfortable, because my life will change at all.

  

If something comes up, if something wasn't done, I won't freak out. I'll make a note, and I'll make a plan to take time and address it.

There is incredible joy in pausing from time to time to realize: I'm where I wished I could go.  

There is relief to remember that before I reached any major goal, I was uncomfortable.

If I don't feel comfortable yet, I know how it will feel when I am.  

And so.

Like I have done before, I will imagine the next person I would like to be until I am that person. So far, I'm  good with me. I'm a person I think I'd want to know if I met me. I'd want to be my friend and I would look forward to seeing me. I'd like my humor and reason. I'd ask me questions if I had a problem.

  

I ask myself, like I used to ask my kids, "what would make you feel more comfortable right now?" And, the answer is always, "knowing what's coming."  But I think today, I will try to be comfortable knowing that whatever is coming, I can handle it.

I wanted to write this for me. But then, I wanted to write it for people I love. 

Because, really, what is loving people about if it isn't to be honest with them about moments when you feel least at ease, knowing they may be  more likely to share their own with you, when they need to.

I'd ask you to wish me luck, but I know, if I am lucky enough to be loved by you, that you already do.

How Love Is

Recently, my mother asked if I would prepare a reading for her to offer at the wedding of her granddaughter and my niece, Kaley. I was honored.

With thoughts of my niece and her love, Stephen,  I wrote the piece below. Yesterday, my mother delivered it with every bit of tenderness and love that inspired me.

Later, I was asked by guests for copies of the reading.  Here it is, and thank you for loving it as much as I loved writing it.

How Love Is

You know how love is.

So inconsiderate, love

How it walks right in front of you, trips you, makes you fall

How it wakes you up early, and won't leave you alone.

How it keeps you awake with its arms around your heart.

So "me first," love

How it interrupts your thoughts and talks over them.

How it makes you smile when you're supposed to be doing other things

Because you can't forget something your love said.

How you felt.

So bossy, love

The way it takes over everything and makes it better.

Sweeter

Funnier

Deeper

Brighter

Softer.

Such a trouble-maker, love

Making you reckless like that, saying all those perfect, risky things before you can stop yourself.

Making you believe things that are too good to be true.

But which are.

Things like:

All you need, all you are, all you can be, starts with love.

All you deserve, all you've hoped for, and wished could happen someday, comes with love.

All you've waited for, all you've feared you might not find, ends with love.

So in the way, love

How it won't leave you alone,  because it's always right there.

That demanding way it makes you give your best self to it, even if it gives back a "you" that is better.

So controlling, love

Opening all those doors and windows to your minds and hearts so that nobody grows alone

And not closing them again when it rains

How it makes you forget what you should

And remember what you must

And oh, that way it follows you everywhere, checking for wrong turns, leaping into your path, yelling, "No! No! Not that way! This way!"

But how you need it, love.

How easily you summon it, hear it, see it

How you stop everything to look for it when you've misplaced it.

How you know when you've found it.

How you know you won't let it go.

Because you know, like you know your own voice, that you were in the right place, when love came looking for a home. 

You know how love is.