One thing I’ve noticed as hubby and I have finally started actively looking for a new place is how incredibly tiring the mere mere act of longing for the future is. It is like the opening of a black hole at the top of one’s mind, from where all energy is drained away.

Longing is really like booze in one way: you are suddenly unaware of what goes on right in front of you, everything feels less real, and yet in the back of your mind there is a muted awareness that you are willingly deluding yourself.

I’ve noticed it especially during the morning meditation, when my awareness is sharpest and most aligned with the present, only to be yanked away a few minutes later as the day starts. All I can do is observe myself with curiosity, like one being amused by the antics of a pet.