Yeah, this is feeling pretty familiar.

Bags are packed, I think finally complying with United’s new reduced weight limit.

A few errands are yet to be run, audiobooks (a nice going away gift from a friend: The Kite Runner, which is a whopping 12 hours, and some Dr. Seuss) are being uploaded, a couple of people still to say goodbye to here and then on to the next leg of this journey. There’ll be a bunch of steps between here and there before I hit eretz hakodesh.

It’s funny. Last time I left I was all, like, emotive about leaving town, and though this time I’m still sorry to say goodbye to a few very dear friends (one of whom is due to give birth in April!) it doesn’t feel nearly as heavy a thing. I guess I’m just getting better at rolling with the fact that my life is going to be like this–back-y and forth-y– for probably a couple more years at least. It’ll be nice to ever get to be someplace for more than a few years in a row, to be able to really invest deeply in the community, to really become a part of the place. The last couple of years that I’ve been here I’ve felt my transience pretty acutely. It’s not necessarily a bad thing–I’m gaining so much from all of these experiences, all these relationships with people and places, and breadth is its own richness–but I’ll be happy when it’s a different kind of a mode. I can see the effects of all this on my writing and thinking, and even on my spiritual life; I see changes without meaningfully understanding them. It’s simply harder to turn inward when so much is shifting externally. But there is a time for all things, and no doubt when I do have a little more time to sit still, I’ll be drawing on all of this.

Hopefully in the coming week I’ll have some time to write, and in the coming weeks after that as well. But for the moment, my job is to retrieve the clean laundry from the dryer, and then to deposit some checks, and then to meet a friend to say goodbye for now. Chop wood, carry water. It’s all so holy, and so beautiful.