Since returning from our recent travels to points west, I’ve been possessed by a vague sense of unease. Since at least mid-March (about the time we started this blog, matter of fact) it has felt as if we were on a headlong rush to catch up with events as they rapidly unfolded before us. It almost seemed as though a dam had burst, and we were riding the crest of the pent-up waters thus released, washing us rapidly toward our anticipated Life On The Hook™.
Safely home, suitcases unpacked and returned to the attic, we looked around and asked ourselves “Now what?” But all is still for the moment. No great task pushes to the forefront. Some things about the house still need to be set right, but nothing that precludes us from marketing it. No major boat chore looms—Eagle Too sits patiently at the dock, ready to go at a moments notice, all systems functional.
In my novel Lunar Dance, there’s a scene in which protagonist Tom Armac, CEO of Roadrunner Rockets, is gloomily brooding in his office, contemplating how reality threatens his dream. His corporate attorney Nicole Ferry finds him gazing out his window lost in thought.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
“Yes, everything’s fine,” Tom answered, turning around to face her. “Everyone should have my problems,” he added with a grim smile. “I just hate continually finding myself is this situation,” he growled.
“What situation is that?”
“I do so much, and then everything depends on the whim of someone else to decide if I’ll succeed.” Turning to look out the window again, Tom added, “Some bureaucrat, or politician, or judge.” Pausing a moment, he spat out, “Or board member.”
At the moment, I feel a bit like Tom. We’ve done so much to move towards our goal, but for the moment, we are no longer in control. We find ourselves governed by the actions of others. In this case our realtor, and that most elusive quantity, the well-qualified buyer. We can’t turn the page, take the next step, move closer towards our goal, until someone makes us an offer on our house. Beyond some adjustment on the price, there is little we can do but wait.
But when that day comes, it will unleash a tempest of activity. Packing, discarding, storing, moving. Adjusting to a new waterborne life. So while things are currently quiet, something tells me that somewhere just beyond our perception, there’s a storm brewing…