Chronic dissatisfaction is at the heart of the matter.

I’ve sort of taken Todd Gitlin’s words out of context.  Truth be told, I don’t have the context.  I found the quote on a quote website.  But it resonates with what I have been thinking as I ask myself, “What am I thankful for on this Thankful Thursday?”  Because, you know, I have to do a blog post.

The first thing I thought is that I’m going to be stuck for a blog post, because I’m not feeling very thankful just now.  In fact, I’m feeling vaguely dissatisfied.

And then it struck me.

That’s the thing for which I am thankful.

You see, I’ve been in my “new” house for almost three years.  The big culture shock of the move is over.  The adjustments of finding doctors and dentists and grocery stores and dry cleaners have been accomplished.  Almost everything has been unpacked and most things have found places.  The big repairs to the house itself have been accomplished.  There are still major remodeling projects to come, but the walls have paint, there is enough furniture to find a place to sit and a place to sleep as required, and we have managed to acquire most of the things we never needed previously.  Lawn mowers, for example.

Moving is no longer the main focus of my existence.

Now I’m moved.  And I’ve got to figure out what my new life should look like–other than a life lived in service to this house.

The house is all well and good.  It’s beautiful, in fact.  And I am enjoying the weather and the view and the coots.  I am more than thankful for the quiet–as anyone who knew me during the living hell of my previous existence is no doubt aware.  We’ve settled into a routine.

And it’s just occurred to me in the last week or so that something is not quite right.

I’m not painting and plastering every waking hour, so what am I doing?

That is a disconcerting feeling…or would be, except that I recognize it.

It’s the same feeling I’ve had in the past just before something really interesting comes along.  Just before I get a great job or write a play or have an adventure of one kind or another.

I don’t know what this calm before the storm presages this time.  I approach it warily—as one should approach all storms—but I am thankful the breezes are stirring.

I’ll echo my niece  who said, once, at a family gathering when she was…oh, about one and a half…and had been playing quietly on the floor, paying no attention to any of the adults, until she popped suddenly into view, announcing with great interest and a joyfully rising inflection,”I wonder what’s gonna happen.”

Creativity, for me, has always required space—a gestational period of boredom. I think, perhaps, it’s come round again.  And I’m thankful.

I wonder what’s gonna happen.