It smells of dirt outside.  Fresh garden dirt.  The kind of dirt you don’t mind having under your fingernails as you straighten from a new bed of plants and feel your back begin to ache.  But it’s not my dirt, and my back is fine.  I can’t think where I’m picking up the scent as only desert dirt surrounds me.

One smell though – and my thoughts go into overdrive.  The same with songs.  Names.  Colors.

I love my imagination.  I embrace it.  But the last few days I’m had to tamp it down – like the dirt I imagined only moments ago from my porch.

The week began with wonderment and excitement and hope.  It declined to heart problems and doctors and needles and tests and tears.  And just when I thought the week couldn’t slip any further, it did.

Someone I care deeply about had some unexpected sad news.

When someone I love worries, I worry.  When someone I love is happy, I’m happy for them.  I’m a very intuitive, sensitive, feeling person.  Not to be confused with co-dependent.  Because I’m perfectly capable of finding my own happiness.  It is not contingent on others.

But I digress, as usual.

I’m finding myself in suspended animation – swiping the screen of my ipad to check for news – messages.  My heart, dropping into my stomach when my email advises me that yes, it has updated and no, there is nothing new to show me.

I’ve been feeling selfish too.  Selfish because this recent event could mean that all the wonderment and excitement I felt at the beginning of the week could be delayed, or perhaps, never be.

And that is when I have to tamp down my imagination.

You let me sit and think without information and I’ll create either the best or worst scenario my mind can come up with.  It’s terrible.  Terrible and wonderful at the same time.

I’ve dismissed the worry I had for myself and the hug I shared with my doctor, while tears streamed down my cheeks is a fading memory.

But the love and fear I feel for someone else remains.

I will pray to whatever God will listen to me – and use my imagination to send love and light to  the family that needs it.

I have to decide, again, to let go.  Give another thing I have no control of over to the universe.

Fairy tales will have to wait, even  destiny gets interrupted sometimes.