There is a rhythm and Zen to life. Move against it and life can get very hard. Move with it and you can ride those waves to shore. The problem? Well, the rhythm and Zen aren’t always moving in the direction you want or need to go. Sometimes, you’re at fault. Sometimes, it’s simply fate. Regardless, I think we all seek the rhythm to make life hum along smoothly for ourselves and feel it acutely when it doesn’t.
Around these parts? It’s been bumpy.
We finished renovations in mid-November, clearing the way for the holiday season to kick in and with it our new lives. Then, it didn’t. We fostered and adopted out the kittens the day after Thanksgiving only to lose our sweet Meadow, our 18-year-old tiny kitty, to cancer on January 6th. And as we were mourning her, the snow and bitter cold hit along with work obligations that quickly spiraled out of control. The rest of January and February would be brutal, candidly, except for a quick trip to New Orleans to celebrate a very-delayed Christmas and Mardi Gras. Coming home, our sweet Twister got sick a few days after we got back and took a solid week to recover.
And we are here.
Here is a bit worn out. Tired. Sad. Frustrated. Depleted. More than a little overwhelmed.
On paper, it shouldn’t be this way. The weather is finally breaking and we have days of true spring-like weather ahead. Our remaining four furry ones are now healthy. We have both cleared some big work hurdles. The house is a bit untidy but it’s certainly very fixable and not a big deal. There are certainly no renovation supplies tucked in closets and corners anymore. I have one more family health hurdle to overcome and genuinely, my skies should be cleared for the remainder of the year. Finally, we have a four-day getaway coming up for just the two of us with no agenda but to relax.
Yet I’m not going to lie. This feels hard. And I finally understand why.
For so long, I waxed poetic about the end of renovations. Somehow, in my idealized version of the end of renos, the skies were always going to be sunny, the house always cleaned, the weekends were completely free for mindless frivolity, money would flow easily, no one would get sick and clouds on my horizon would dissipate before they came close to my sun. Therefore, reality bites.
Still, it doesn’t have to. And without rose-colored glasses, here’s what my today looks like: I’ve finally gotten back in shape to where I can comfortably run a 5K and I’ve lost six pounds. It’s Thursday and I don’t work tomorrow nor do I need to work late today. Work is safe and secure for both of us, even if it feels like we’re working too much sometimes. Kitties are happy and healthy and the weekend beckons.
It’s time, I think, to start riding the waves again and matching my rhythm to the life in front of me. It may be a bit hard to accept after swimming upstream for the past three months, but I can breathe deeply, close my eyes and let go a bit. And what I know for certain is that when I do that, our lives dramatically turn for the better. I tend to assume the role of Chief Comfort Officer around here. If I smooth the path for all of us, it becomes a self-perpetuating circle of calm and quiet. Our what’s next, then, is up to me.
Giving myself the power to define our what’s next is a bit of a head game but also transformative. In a sense, it’s like giving myself permission to be happy. And I’ll be honest, I’m planning on running with it.
First up, we head to the gym this afternoon. Nothing makes me feel stronger or more in control of my body than a good run. Then? Sunday is Daylight Savings Time. I’ve waited since Dec. 26th for this day. I can’t wait for the mirage of another hour of daylight. It makes me so genuinely happy when the sun doesn’t set until 7:30 p.m. And then, this trip away. Again, it’s only four days (which after my sweet Twister getting sick is all I’d be comfortable doing). But in between here and there, I have the time to get this little family ready for some real relaxation. By gradually slowing our pace, reducing our expectations on ourselves and taking time for calm moments, quiet conversations and small treats, we can slowly get prepared to truly let go. When we went to Antigua a few years ago, my husband went into that trip so keyed up and anxious that the drive to the airport was almost tense and he slept the first two days. Going into this trip, I want to dial us both down from that 100% tense mode to at least 60%. The trip can do the rest. Otherwise, we wouldn’t appreciate it as much. But yes, we need a little pre-gaming to get us there.
So, that’s my mission over the next month and that’s my new vision. I still believe in idealizing the future in that it gives us so much to look forward to. But this time? Perhaps I’ll keep it a bit more grounded in reality. More than that? I’ll get us back into the slipstream of life’s rhythms.
Our what’s next? It’s calm, restorative and happy. We just need to trust.
The Yuppie Homesteader 