I don’t do well in limbo. I’m excellent at reflecting on the past – occasionally even learning from it. I thrive at crafting scenarios for what might happen in the future – good, bad or otherwise. But I don’t do well in the present, especially when things are in flux.

I don’t need a therapist to tell me that when my present is out of my control I begin controlling what I can. This weekend it was deconstructing our tree house. Last weekend I recaulked my entire bathroom. The weekend before that I cleared crap out of my shed. It was all work that needed to be done, but I was only empowered for an hour or two, and the discomfort of my out-of-my-hands life was waiting for me when I finished.

At some point in the last few weeks, I threw some seeds in a pot, just to watch them grow. I can say now that I was creating a reminder for myself that things take time, but really I was just restless and wanted the seeds off my counter. Despite the lack of planning or doting or real intent, these little guys sprang up a few days ago and have been entertaining me every morning since. “Patience, Leah,” they mutter, with their mouths still full of soil.

My mantra these days: I just have to make it through May.

I’m dealing with a handful of physical issues, which I just can’t bring myself to write about, but suffice it to say all require me to wait-and-see. My kids are both at tiny turning points in the long arc of moving from teens to adults. I’m about to try something new for my depression and I don’t even have words for my personal life right now.

By this time next month I’ll know so much more about so many things that are worrying me right now. But that is June and this is May. So, I’m cleaning up my past, working on my present, and planting seeds, an act that makes limbo just a little easier to endure.