betwixt and between

On Saturday I was standing with hobbitt on a dock behind the Waterstreet Hotel in Port Townsend, enjoying the last of the late-afternoon light. To our right, or south, we could see the beach of our new community, Kala Point. A little further to the right, south-west, we could see the dark, looming peaks of the Olympic range. Straight ahead was Indian Island, across Port Townsend Bay. To the left, north-east, Mt. Baker's snowy facade in the Cascades was basking in the low sunlight. A river otter swam past in the water beneath us. Behind us Port Townsend was in full bloom, with bees nectaring, and earlier in the day, locals in shorts running errands to the stately old post office.

The closing didn't take place when it was supposed to; the phone company was unable to connect phone service; we somehow clogged up a toilet in our new home; the dishwasher in the new kitchen is a feature-free bottom-of-the-line noise machine (which the builder will remove and credit us for); our flight back east was cancelled due to icing and high winds. The new sumps were dug here over the last couple of days and there are sand piles on the back walk. While cleaning up the basement after the plumbing work, we discovered that the downstairs shower drain leaks.

Now I know from my spiritual training that there is magic in those betwixt and between places. Actually, I know it from my Master Gardening training, too. Those areas neither here nor there contain the vital stuff of life and energy and growth. Carbon dioxide is exchanged for oxygen; tidal marshes comprise the fecund scapes which give rise to both aquatic vigor and feeding and nesting grounds for migratory birds; the heart opens for goodbyes while the mind imagines those new horizons, creating a mix of emotions and the volatile blend of impatience and expectation.

Yeah, it's a rich place indeed. Yet I feel like a prisoner in some ways. The "neither here nor there" part of it all has an emphasis on the neither part, for me. I don't feel like I can do this. I don't know how I'll get through this. Right now, it's just too much.