The wheels have been in motion for this leaving comfortable since last July, always in the background. Sort of like being on a ship, on deck 15 and the guts of the ship, the engine room, the boilers, the bowels of the vessel are hidden from the passengers view, underfoot, hidden, silent. But somehow the ship moves, from one port to another while the passengers sleep and eat and play.
That's how this journey of leaving comfortable has been. This change, this transplant, this....this...journey. Maybe the wheels have been churning for this change long before July of 2012. Maybe the wheels have been churning since 1959, 1966, 1945, 1848. Who knows? But more and more I see (?) or feel (?) or sense (?) or just KNOW that Someone has been driving this ship, Someone has been at its helm, Someone has been navigating when I was sleeping, when I was eating, when I was playing, when I was grieving, when I was laughing, when I was rejoicing.
Someone who has known from before I was born every day of my life before one of them came to be.
I don't know if I'm down closer to the engine room now and I can see the workings of making a ship run or if I'm on deck 15, high up on the bird's nest, and see the new port is coming up in the horizon and I can see land, but it's coming into view much faster than I thought (or right on time if you're Someone) and it's here.
We're getting ready to step off the ship, enter the new port and live another part of the journey on a new ship, yet to be named.
The ship called Comfortable is being disembarked and I'm sad. And I'm glad. And I'm excited. And I'm anxious. And I'm sad. But most of all, I'm ready.
It's been a good Ship.