this is one of those times that i open up this blog to add some words to this strange sort of communication even though inspiration is not present.  it’s been a few days and concerning a blog, silence isn’t very becoming, so i tell myself to muster something up to entertain and convince you to fall more in love with me than you already are.  well, i’m not sure if either will ever happen, but here goes nothin’…

my life feels upside down.  my office of three years is being renovated.  my little blue office isn’t little anymore and the blue said goodbye as well.  welcome large grey space with no character yet.  people keep asking me if i like it.  does it work if i say i will because to be honest, i don’t right now.

friday afternoon i sat in the middle of my empty little blue office as i watched two guys take down the wall that separated my space from an outer room.  remember the scene in You’ve Got Mail when kathleen kelly leaves her bookstore for the final time and she stands and replays a memory of her mother?  although i don’t have a lifetime, i had three significant years in that room and i found that i didn’t want to leave.  it was anything but a professional office with an old kitchen table serving as a desk for two and our monitors sitting back-to-back and our feet touching the others.  but i liked being surprised by a pair of blue eyes as they stared at me over the monitors or the constant bumping of legs with the new booted girl.  and i sat and replayed the times of tears and talks and dance parties and hugs and moments of stress and birthday flowers being delivered and Bible being read and things falling apart and just living three years in that small little blue room.

and suddenly i didn’t want it to change.

so, i apologize if you’ve had to be around me in the last four days.  emotions have been high, exhaustion caught up with me, and my life feels like it’s been unraveled.  i know i’m dramatic but although tearing things down and having a new work space built custom just for me was supposed to be full of excitement, the process of transformation isn’t much fun.  this change isn’t just adding to what i already love — it’s taking away what i loved and putting something entirely new in its place.

like i said — dramatic.

but i do know this: that with every stroke of grey paint, in a strange sort of way, it represents the building of a new season.  new. and i keep telling myself that learning to let go, moving forward, embracing the present and not living in the past — it’s good.  that was our motto for the last three years and i would kinda like to keep it if i can.

this lesson and moment of learning —

it’s good.  it’s really good.