Reality.

So.

The rapture, as far as I can gather, didn't happen last evening, and I am still here.

I am also home from a lengthy sort of vacation and back to the reality that happens when you walk through the door after a long absence.  Chores are calling.  Grass needs mowing.  Emails need answering.

I'm not really a fan of the "coming home rituals".  I hate laundry.  I hate cleaning.  I hate how I notice every little detail of the crumbs on the kitchen floor.

And I hate that feeling of being overwhelmed when I see my inbox, my house, my yard, my garden, and my little voice mail light flashing urgently above our tech center. 

I started out invigorated and cleaned up the kitchen, answered all of my voice mails and emails, checked facebook "just in case", caught up on twitter and my blogs, made sure the kids were fed and happy (they were - running around the house screaming and laughing, so happy to be home), and now I'm here on my own blog.

There's a lot to think about.  And I have a choice.

I can be overwhelmed and stressed out and scared and angry.

Or I can be excited that my life is so full.

That we just had a great ten days away from home where we learned and laughed and loved and made new friends.  That in just a few days I'll be opening my very own art studio.  That Butterfly will be Off-Broadway in a few months and I'll be a part of it.  That I'm directing a musical and it's most likely going to be a lot of fun. 

These things could overwhelm.  They could take over.  I could dwell on lists and issues and people problems and potential conflicts and fear.

I could let my anxiety win.

Or I can get excited to dig in, stay up late, and try something new. 

I'd like to say that looking at the positive is something I'm good at, but I'd be lying. 

A huge part of me would just like to hide for the summer.

But I'm working on that part.  It's in conversation with the positive part.  And we're making some progress.