Friday night I felt unsettled.  Physically on edge.  Like something was about to happen,  but I didn’t know what.  I’m learning to live more in the emotions of this time.  I think when we immerse ourselves in Holy Week and the Triduum it’s no surprise our own emotions start to coincide. Perhaps this “detached”  Easter is helping me see this with a bit more clarity,  earlier rather than later in the moment.  The twitchy feeling has persisted,  the feeling of being constantly on the brink of tears,  the saying the wrong thing,  waking too early.  But like Mary,  I’m in limbo.  She was constrained by Sabbath law.  Trying to continue through the day as normal,  wanting to go to the tomb,  and yet fearful,  did she need reminding of what happened yesterday? What if she couldn’t get to the body,  what if…  Not trusting her own emotions her own reactions..  But they are moot reflections. She wasn’t going anywhere.
I’m doing normal too,  mum taxi,  this blog,  coffee.  I want today over,  to move on,  and yet I don’t.  Perhaps I’m needing to stay in this waity Holy place.  In my in-betweeny state right now it’s the place that fits,  that names &  owns me.  Detached,  alienated,  having no home.  Perhaps I’m scared of Easter Sunday because I’m not there yet.  But then I think I think this every year, and when it comes the relief is immense.
Life might not be Sunday yet,  staying in Saturday might appeal,  but tonight in the Vigil we hear the stories, the pattern of God’s hand through time..  And we know we are part of that story,  again &  again at different points,  in different years, resurrection &  redemption come.  Even when we’re not there now,  Sunday promises is that we will be. 
But for today we wait.

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