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I have snowflakes on my ceiling and a fully decorated Christmas tree in my living room. The snowflakes have been there since December or January. The tree has been up for almost two years and has been decorated since a year ago August. I like the pretense of the holidays, but that isn’t why it’s all still here. I just move slowly sometimes. It would be more trouble than it’s worth to take it all down and pack it away again, and so I have left it.

It will all need to come down soon.

I have a lot to do this week. I have a lot to do these next few weeks. I am overwhelmed by all of it and fairly anxious. I know it will all get done. When it does, I won’t be here anymore, and I’ll be starting a new job with new people in a new town. It’s a lot. It’s not too much.

I let my worries get the better of me and I forget how competent and capable I am. I wonder how the worrying serves me? I imagine it must for me to keep doing it. Yet, it seems like such a total waste of time and energy. So purposeless. I wonder what it would be like to have a bit more faith.

I looked at my dog tonight as we were starting our walk, my thoughts turned toward our future, and declared, “We’re going on an adventure!” I think I would be happier if I actually believed it.