i’ve been thinking a lot lately
about how others see me
how i come across
and if it’s at all similar
to how i see myself
who do they think i am?
what do they think i can do?
when do they think i feel strong, feel weak?
i’ve been thinking a lot lately
about how others see me
how i come across
and if it’s at all similar
to how i see myself
who do they think i am?
what do they think i can do?
when do they think i feel strong, feel weak?
“apparently there were seven stages of grief,
but that was a neat way of putting it.
grief was messy and didn’t colour inside the lines.”
~emily gale
it comes and it goes
it ebbs and it flows
though sometimes anticipated
it can hit unexpectedly
an accident
an uprooting
a betrayal
a passing
any event that changes
the way we do life
new job
new home
new family
new situation
anything
unfamiliar
unrehearsed
unsettled
i’m struggling a bit
at the moment
not sleeping well or enough
and when i literally can’t breathe
i soon can’t breathe metaphorically
trying to forge a new chapter
that seems unreachable
unimaginable
many moments of anxiety
as i work to untangle those things
which seem gnarled and knotty
added weight
added pressure
added complications
lingering anxiety
a new thing for me
never so specific
and permanent-feeling before
and suddenly i realize
i’m grieving
for what was
for what could have been
even for what may be ahead
but it’s okay
because grief can also
be oddly soothing
a gift our body gives us
allowing ourselves to
let the dam burst
let the tears surge
a flood of emotions
and questions
and yearnings
to process the loss
to begin making sense
of the unknown future
searching for
homeostasis
a balance
physiological, psychological
our essence
our home
tweet
frightening words
slicing through our
daily routines
drink coffee
shower
invasion
evoking agitation, anxiety
an unsettled feeling
in our souls
work
buy groceries
conflict
heart-wrenching images
of people and pets
their new beds in the subway
walk
drive
missiles
surreal to us, like a movie
but a sad harsh reality
for ukrainians
scroll up and down
comment
destruction
we watch the news
we feel the fear
we wish for peace
hug
cry
war
a former comedian who stays
and fights for his country
leadership that impresses
eat
sleep
bravery
fallen buildings
fleeing citizens
rising casualties
(a word that never seemed right)
we worry
we wait
we wonder
tweet
some days start slow
time to sit and ponder
to think and assess
to savor a cup of tea
and appreciate the scent of a flower
time to breathe
quiet
because
other days start out rushed
flying out of bed
with the first alarm bell
hurrying, stumbling
knowing you’ve forgotten something
no time no time no time
noise
because
days have their seasons
and months do too
sometimes many months, even years
i am currently in the rush season
where days slip by with hardly a chance
to catch my breath
no real deadline, yet feeling the pressure
to move beyond this renovation stage
and relax into our new home
i do sneak in several slow days, here and there
(while my husband works on at the pink house)
i’d go bananas otherwise
so i am taking one right now
to gather my thoughts
write this blog post
plan a decent dinner
catch up on to-do lists
design-in-my-mind the next room
to recharge
because
how about you?
as some of you noticed, i didn’t publish my studio notes for a long time. not for eleven months, almost a year. i didn’t do much journaling during that time either. it wasn’t that i had nothing to write about. oh no, plenty going on, still is.
stepping into the unknown
constantly, continuously
optimism, then despair
forward, back, forward, back
transparencies, complexities
assurances, uncertainties
there’s no sugarcoating it
life feels pretty damn demanding at times
we have difficult decisions to make
unpleasant obstacles to face
challenging roads ahead of us
sometimes there is no quick fix to our troubles
anxiety, fear, and shame constant companions
the best we can do is try to make
wise decisions along the way
believe that each and every moment
we can choose
to go a different direction
to follow an alternate path
are we strong enough
brave enough
gutsy enough?
what does home mean to me?
september 2012
(after making the decision to sell our home in washington state and become global nomads)
we are headed toward not having an actual physical place to call home and, during the process of geographically untethering our lives, we have discussed and explored what home really means to us.
i’ve spent the first days of 2022 e-a-s-i-n-g into my annual rah-rah “new year/new me” ritual. i knew it wouldn’t happen january 1. that’s a myth i’ve told myself in years past. this time i was more honest in my outlook.