Thirty years ago about this time I was experiencing a phenomenon known as “nesting”…that period before a woman gives birth when she succumbs to a flurry of housekeeping chores. Cleaning, arranging, preparing the perfect safe and beautiful space to shelter a new life.
Oddly enough, I find myself with the urge to nest once again, to draw my feathers close around me and settling into a safe and cozy corner. I’m not sure what’s responsible for this feeling, but there’s a clear and definite desire to be home these days, to stay inside with my family and my things around me, to remove myself from the rest of the world with all its demands.
If I’m honest, this isn’t a new feeling. I’ve noticed this tendency to withdraw from society for quite some time, and in fact, I’ve found being out in the world increasingly exhausting for the better part of a year. I think it stems from a generalized dissatisfaction with my life – at least the one I live in the outside world. The one that involves work and errands and traffic and cold.
But when I’m snuggled in my little nest, I’m happy as the proverbial clam.
Perhaps my need to nest is a way of preparing me for something big, some wonderful new change that’s about to occur in my own small corner of the world.
Let’s hope it’s love-ly.