Winter’s Shadow

The days are short and getting colder; there is a possibility of snow forecast later in the week.

I rather hope it doesn’t snow just yet. I have neglected to clean the garden. It wants doing, but I did not get to it this weekend, or last.

Last weekend was largely full of church; this weekend was busier than expected – we had the extended family over on Thursday and I am grateful for the absence of major family drama and that everybody took home enough leftovers that we will not be eating Thanksgiving Dinner for a month. We may actually have to cook some time this week. I also spent a couple of days helping a church friend get (mostly) moved into her new apartment. We may be making another run later this week.

I have also been puttering around the last few weeks, resuming my creative habits – arranging some traditional carols (in case I’m called on for last-minute seasonal music), finishing the Christmas ornaments for this year’s family ornament exchange AND the ones I didn’t finish last year due to illness and drama. So this year I will be distributing both sets and call it good. I also successfully got paintings down to the KVAA 8×10 Fundraiser before the deadline. I haven’t sold anything yet at one of these, but I enjoy the excuse to put some of my work out in public. Art, like music, is a soul-soothing practice, and one that I don’t seek out often enough.

But that doesn’t get the garden cleaned. Now that we’ve had a few hard freezes I really should go uproot the things I do not want to have to deal with next year, while I still remember where they are.

I don’t know if it will happen this coming weekend, or not.

I’m not ready for winter. I was not ready for autumn when it arrived, and now I am not ready for winter, nor for the holiday season. Still, time hurries on whether I am ready for it or not, and divinity school application deadlines are approaching faster than I realize. I need to figure out who I’m going to ask for references, which does entail climbing over that dreadfully high barrier of Talking To People About My Personal Plans Before I Have Finalized Them, and I just have not figured out how to cope with that part yet. Gah, I’m such a nerd, a big shy nerd.

I am so small, the Universe so great and wide, and I am but a speck in it. Who am I to think I can do this? It is objectively crazy, this business of “There is a Power that calls me to do its work.” What gives me the right to think I’m special?

Surely there is some mistake, I said, when I figured out I couldn’t hide under the table. Surely I’m not the right person. I’m nobody. I’m not wealthy, I’m not influential. There are at least thousands of people better qualified and better prepared for this kind of work than I am. I am just a very small bundle of flaws and insecurities, wholly inadequate to the task that lies before me.

I remember, too, that I have read this part of the story before. This part is not a new story.

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