I am a person who thrives on routine. If someone says the plan is "a, b, c," I'm good with "a, b, c" but when the plan changes, "2xa, +b, -c, +e and f" I get a bit stressed.
I am not very flexible.
Perhaps Yoga would help.
On a poetry note, I don't often push boundaries and submission deadlines, but due to this messed up bit of my life, I did this week. And they were nice enough to let me know that they'd still consider it. A small bright spot!
There is sun today and the snow is melting away. I hope it is enough to raise my spirits a bit.
"February, Thinking of Flowers" by Jane Kenyon seems apt today. Bees, and the garden in the late afternoon haze.
Cleaning out dusty shelves, I came across a poem I don't remember writing. I remember the experiences of the poem, but not writing it. This feels a bit odd and a bit like reading a stranger's diary. Except it's my handwriting and my memories.