Does this crisis feel like we’re in the middle of the unknown?
From the corner of my eye, I caught my daughter dancing in the kitchen as she puts away dishes. She’s leaping and sliding across the floor with glasses, and plates, and silverware. With headphones on, she is unaware she has an audience. I see her take a deep breath, filling her lungs with air just before she belts out: “Into the Unknown, Into the Unknown, Oh-oh-oh-oh, into the unknown.” She spins and stops with huge eyes locked on me questioning how long I’d been watching. Then, she bows. Oh, that kid.
“Into the Unknown” is the song from Disney’s new Frozen 2. We find Elsa standing in the darkness, it is beckoning her to step into the unknown, towards something that is calling her.
She must face her fears.
She must trust she will be ok.
The unknown will answer questions of her identity
The unknown holds her destiny only if...
Robbed. We'd been robbed. Or at least that's what it felt like to me. Our Virginia house had been on the market for longer than it should have been and we'd had no offers. Then, finally one came and the buyer wanted all my curtains and the appliances in our basement kitchen. The listing had clearly said these didn't convey. I had plans for those draperies in my new house, my Colorado house. And in my heart I'd already given those appliances to a family who needed them. She couldn't have them. What was the most irritating was she wanted the wrought-iron bench in my front yard. The bench was a gift in remembrance of my dad. That sent me over the edge. I dug my heels in. I didn't want to budge.
It is silly really, but it was my reality and feelings aren't always reasonable. The pending cross country move and looming uprooting from family and friends was already so painful. Now this, this was taking even more from me. I was grieving, losing a big piece of myself in...