Gentle readers....
How goes your journey? Are you feet tired from walking? Are you running without tiring? Is your heart heavy laden? Are the best days upon you?
My heart is full but my pen is silent. This happens every once in awhile. I can't find a way to make the connection from heart to head to paper. I guess some might call this "writers block."
I've been trying to make some headway in my seven year itch. I so desperately am stuck in a phase of, "Please help me get out of the state of New York in whatever means necessary and/or is/as required." It's pretty bad, friends. I'm trying so hard to be cool with it, but ick. I have been so compressed and depressed by the current state of affairs. I find I am almost no use in conversation because I have absolutely nothing to talk about. I feel empty and quite void of expression which, for a writer, is like death. It might sound like an exaggeration, but writers need to engage life, people, experience to find fulfillment, even if these experiences are not pleasant. A day-to-day life of "get up, go to work, come home, rinse, repeat" is gray. Writers write and experience in color. Big, bold, beautiful, emotional colors.
I've almost put myself in a strict "to do" list phase. Each part of the day is really a list of things to cross off. Seeking ways to improve myself, my parenting, my house, my health are all on a daily list. I am legitimately proud that I have almost consumed a bottle of vitamins. I cannot actually say if I have ever done that before. Prenatal vitamins, what?! Forget it, they didn't stay down anyway. If you follow me on social media you will note my exasperation that breakfast mostly contains vitamins and limited amounts of cereal. But, in the ticking off of that item, I find great pleasure. It's a mundane pleasure, but it gets me back on track. It helps me to feel some emotion and that, my dear readers, is the key. A writer can't live in a world without emotions.
I spent the last year of my life fully engaged outside of my home. I was completely wrapped up in a world that had no bearing on anything of importance. Completely wrapped up in it. And it held absolutely no value. Not for the long term. When the choice was made to return to myself and my family, I found myself really lost. Grateful that I had chosen life. But lost nonetheless. All my NY life was spent there. Any acquaintances and friendships were left behind. All my "being needed" was gone.
This phase is rebuilding and that is mundane; it is not an exciting time for anyone. Can I say, though, that deep inside I do feel much better about the progression of my life? Can I say that these times truly are needed? Being empty and alone, being without life as a runaway train? Good for the soul. Really good for the soul. Inventory and evaluation takes place like no other time in your life. (It's not particularly fun. I'm certainly not jumping up and down about it.) But so good.
I am a better mother right in this space than I ever was last year. That is the honest, discouraging truth. I am in my kids' business. I am putting them to work. I am pushing them to learn. I'm getting them off electronic items and making them play games with me. I'm encouraging them about life. I'm encouraging them in friendships. When I can focus on my kids and check that off, I feel good. I feel a deep joy when I share in their life. I can still reach into their life, so far, and get us both a little farther down the road. It is increasingly difficult and I am grateful that I am in this space and time with them. It might have been too late had I left it go farther.
I am working at being better, physically. I put on a good 10-15 pounds in the last year and I'm just rolling my eyes about it. It started by being so busy I only had time and effort for copious amounts of Mountain Dew and Reese Eggs and ended with a sitdown job where sluggish days are the thing and I just happen to like Mountain Dew and Reese Eggs. When I can check off that I've focused on my health, and have done better in this area, I feel good.
Each day is mundane, full of checklists, and time for evaluation. It isn't full of emotion, but is calculating. I am in fact trying to decide and make the choice about the seven year itch. To visualize the success and happiness of my children. From here the next phase of my life is emptying my nest. My focus is digging in and getting my kids from point A to point B. If that means NY is it, then NY is it. I can choose to be happy and reassert myself into culture.
I don't find after 5 years into New York that I have the same joy that I had 5 years into Utah. But comparison is the thief of joy. These are two separate seasons and phases; it is a disservice for me to continue to compare. "Joy is always with us," as my son once said, "it is happiness that comes and goes." Happiness is a decision.
Happiness is something that I can check off, each day, because I have the focus I need.
It's an emotionless gift, for now, but it is a gift. Not too much farther down the road, I will be giggling with friends and enjoying the sunny days and the grey season of comparison, evaluation and doubt will fall behind.
I hope I remember well the lessons it has taught. It has been a cruel friend, but a wise one, nonetheless.
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