Have you heard this? (Have I already put this in a blog post? Probably.)
You might not be into spoken word poetry. I didn’t think I would be. But this is the quiet alternative to “Shake It Off.” There are days when you can’t quite shake literally, but you can shake the dust.
Jesus told his disciples if they ever came to a town where they weren’t welcome, they should shake the dust from their feet and leave. I wonder if Taylor Swift knew that Jesus said it first?
I left my town. I wasn’t chased out, and when I arrived in the next, it welcome me with a rainstorm.
I had forgotten my rain coat at home, but the thing didn’t have a hood anyways, so we bought a new one.
Shake the dust.
My new roommates and I spent all weekend putting things away and organizing and trying to figure out what will go where, but there are still unpacked boxes, and we haven’t vacuumed and good grief, classes start tomorrow.
Shake the dust.
I got into bed and reached to turn on my reading lamp, which I had already found a plug for and gotten into place.
No light bulb.
Shake the dust. (and maybe slap your forehead because that’s kind of an obvious thing to remember to buy)
The allergens and the stress of moving swirled together into a cloud of congestion and a full-blown cold system that has been steadily moving into my body over the past few days.
Shake the dust (blow your nose, drink Emergen-C).
It’s just dust. Mud clumps? Now that might require a bit more. Dust can be shaken, brushed off. It can stay a molehill. We can shake off dust so it doesn’t accumulate into sludge.
So that’s what I’m doing. Shaking the dust of transition (ugh, that awful word) off my feet and walking into the new.
I also will need to vacuum at some point.