It’s been a long season and the lack of writing a direct result of the frenetic pace and seemingly endless loose ends. October slid into the focus event of November – a big fundraiser for V’s school that I organized and chaired. Then our house went on the market and an offer was accepted the same week we sat down to turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie. And now we are on the treadmill of moving. The closing date looms close and the countdown is accentuated like the exaggeratedly loud thunk of the minute hand moving within the ginormous clock face. Hiccups, number crunching, waves of panic, house tours and uncertainty of the future all admist the backdrop of the magic and joy of holiday season.
My writing has suffered – along with other things as this ship barrels forward. It all has got me thinking. Writing is my therapy. My outlet of expression and my creativity craft. It is good for my soul. My mind is clearer and my thoughts less jumbled. When I write, I keep things in better control because the thoughts aren’t swirling. I don’t feel the need to freely spout thought provoking and philosophical questions to acquaintances looking to make small talk. My tears of stress sit less close to the surface and don’t threaten to bubble over at random times or with a big hug that squeezed me just tight enough. My muscles are looser, my actions more deliberate and my vision of the future focused.
So, I write.
I wonder what I want this place to be. This little alcove in the internet where my words sit. I have a loosely defined idea and a small community who actually seem to read what I write. But, is this the place where the authentic honesty I find most cathartic and cleansing in my writing belongs. Will it be welcomed? Will my insecurities and underlying shyness be fodder for critics and complainers? There’s a lot on my mind and I want (and truthfully need) a place to share it.
Here is some of the random thoughts that have been swirling and spinning. Here they land on the screen of your handheld or the backdrop of your computer screen. Each one alone could be a full blog post but right now they are here. An organized thought that sits on this blog shelf and is free from my mind, my hold, my energy.
We are on the other side, the downward slide, of the bell curve of holiday madness and disruption for Pepper. For six weeks, she has been almost levitating with energy that can’t be contained. All our tools, our well practiced dialogue and therapies can only attempt to steer the runaway car. The season is still magical and wonderful and full of joy. But the manic frenzy she brings to every outing, get together or fun adventure is time consuming and energy sucking. There aren’t enough eggnogs or hours of sleep to offset the frantic high.
The election season simultaneously terrifies me and intrigues me. I appreciate diversity. In truth, it fascinates me. The whys of the whats that the whos are doing is incredibly interesting. It’s obvious why I majored in cultural anthropology. But the polarity and distinct black and white that presents itself during election time is terrifying. It is abrasive. It is full of misleading information and profiling that adds up to disenginuity. It breeds an environment where differing opinions are not welcome. The laser focus on what is wrong with our country, our president, the candidates, makes it nearly impossible to see the good, the value, the richness and commonality each of us has. I consider flushing my list of Facebook friends by weeding out the supremely offensive posts and narrow minded memes that are inadvertently directed at me because I don’t agree. I don’t profess my beliefs and opinions loudly or overtly. If you ask, I’ll share. Willingly and graciously. I am that person that the memes and assumptions of moronic behavior are pointed at. That voter. The one who doesn’t agree with your feelings and harsh judgement. I speak my mind and pave the roads of the future in how I raise my children. And I brace myself for election season.
We are selling our home and moving. Basically right now. We close on January 8th and the last six weeks have been a whirlwind of house showings, offer considering, hoop jumping, paper signing and now packing. I don’t have the words right now to articulate how it feels to be leaving the first home we have owned, the one I brought my babies home to, the garden I have lovingly and therapeutically tended or the spaces that T’s shadow still lingers. This move is huge. It’s life changing in so many ways. There is great sadness in the goodbyes but great hope and joy in the future this change brings. This new year is poignantly symbolic in so many ways and I’ve got a feeling 2016 has a very good vibe about it.
It feels so darn good to purge as we prep to move. Priorities about what to keep shift when it means packing and loading up. Space and time are at a premium right now. I am in a clear space where I can see the joy that things offer and freely release the baggage and emotional charge that things hold. Simplicity, organization and white dishes keep me sane and each item I pack up is a deliberate decision to keep this in mind. In this move, I choose joy.
These last months have been stressful for all the reasons listed above. It’s clear chocolate and gluten held together with butter, sugar and caramel are my go-tos when the waters get rough. I’m bloated. I feel like shit. My energy is somewhere near ground zero. It is time to reset this body, clean it out and get back on the track where I/we am/are driving instead of life’s circumstances moving us along.
I am glad to be back here. I am relaxed as the fingertips click on the keyboard and am at peace seeing my words on the screen. It feels good.
Blessings for an upcoming year of peace, comfort, sustainability, growth, health and incredible joy.