My husband heard this on the radio recently and it has become the tagline for our days – “It won’t be easier, but it will be better.”

We have started discussing the next chapter in our family’s book and it is exciting and scary and completely fueled on blind faith. The adventure would start with a move, and then all the things that happen up to and after that. Nothing about it has been easy.

In fact, I partly blame it for a giant headache that has been plaguing me. The kind of headache where medicine doesn’t seem to help and now your stomach feels yucky because you have had too much medicine. The kind of headache that throbs to tell you exactly what pressure points you should push to dull the pain. Ahhh, a slight bit of relief. But the minute you take your fingers off the pressure points, the pain comes back. Then it becomes the kind of headache where you wish you had something that would keep pushing on the pressure points so that you didn’t have to. So, your desperate pained brain gets clever and you come up with a country solution that your dad would be proud of and your husband would be happy to never ever walk in on.

It’s not lost on me that my shirt, from my husband just so you know, speaks of my awkwardness as does my phone cover.

So, adding a hair clip, with some paper underneath (which was later switched to toilet paper because the paper was too slide-y) to my nose provided pressure to those points. And the hard buttons on a reversed headlamp pushed on those points. Ahhh…

I’m past the worst part of the headache now but every step of this new chapter threatens to bring it back.

Remember – “It won’t be easier, but it will be better.”

Yes, okay.

Perfect is boring.

Yes, okay.

I’ve been having a recurring dream where I enter a dark room with some other people that I know (I can’t remember who they are now that I am awake) and I use the light from my cell phone to help us see a teeny tiny bit. It’s not really scary, just more of an unknown that we need to navigate.

No help needed to interpret that dream.

The term “blind faith” makes me think of strong will, trust and confidence. Then, when I am in a moment of life that requires me to have blind faith, I have none of those qualities and I want to hide, turn back the clock and take back every dream related thing I said and did that got me into this mess.

Every so often, I spend time with the voices in my head that speak to me like “mean girls”.

“Do you really believe that’s gonna work out? A ha ha ha ha ha! Just go back to living a normal life girl, you’re on a path to nowhere. That’s never going to happen.”

Luckily, my blind faith comes with the feeling that “I……..must…….keep…….going.” All of the alternatives are actually worse than putting everything I have on blind faith and forging ahead.

The tricky part about it all is that blind faith could have led you exactly where you wanted to go a thousand times in the past, but it’s possible that it will fail you this time.

Then what? Or maybe it’s better to say, so what?

We know that a move at some point is a definite so I have work to do. When the chips are down, I start packing.

Or I read about all the adventures waiting for me on the other side of this headache that are all new hobbies and will surely give me a new headache.

Or I plug along on the projects that I have committed to finishing this year, and especially before a move. I may never find them again if I have to pack up mid-project.

And I head off on culinary adventures that are far less risky, but no less thrilling. I’m late to the Sriracha Sauce party, as usual, and mostly because I don’t know how to pronounce it, but nonetheless, I have arrived.

A daring move by the spouse at a restaurant recently moved us into the Sriracha World.

He jumped.

I followed.

Our adventure juices are flowing now baby.

And when it all gets to be too much, I always have a fall back.

Sunbeams.

“Is there room for momma on that couch? My world is too much for me right now kitty-kat.”

Or homemade french fries.

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“Life’s tough when you’re tiny. Protect all our children.”