Today I went to the grocery store and bought milk, which is an entirely uninteresting lead into a blog entry.
Except this milk expires after I leave, which makes things feel weird and final and definitely surreal. I've got so many questions to ask the universe about what's going to happen after January 29th. Where am I going to live and what company is going to employ me and who is going to love me and what kind of car will I drive and am I going to gain a lot of weight from too much sweet tea and Chick-Fil-A but not enough walking everywhere and how am I ever going to cope without tourists and the MTA to test my patience on a daily basis? And are things going to work out as well as they appear to be working out and am I completely right to place as much faith in God and love and the aforementioned universe and even myself as I have been lately?
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
by Marianne Williamson
from A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracle
All I really know is that the milk in my fridge will still be drinkable, but I'll not longer be here to drink it.