Moving Eve

It’s raining again.

Tomorrow we leave for Seattle and, it seems, another new life. It will be our third new life in four years. Our life, lately, has been a nomadic life, one that leaves us excited and exhausted at the same time, nearly all the time.

We are, of course, thrilled at the prospect of new things, even as we carry the past with us.

We can see that past with our own eyes as we pack it into the backseat of the car, and we think: if only we could leave more behind.

And we feel that past in our hearts as we remember the whirlwind month we’ve spent with our family and our friends, and we think: if only we could take more of it with us.

And this rain that is coming down again, this rain: it feels so ominous. Or maybe it’s just a harbinger of rainy Seattle, some God-sent sign that our future is already here, right outside our windows, at our doorstep.

Now the sky clears up again, just as suddenly as it arrived. The future is here and it is not, back and forth, sometimes both at the same time. Maybe this is how new life starts.

So start.