When you start any new endeavor, there’s excitement, newness, trepidation for what’s next. While I have not questioned leaving my life I had crafted and lived for 40 years, now here I am and now what?
I’m helping out with kids, doing bus drop and pickup, grocery shopping, laundry, household chores. This is my contribution to this new household and situation. I’m happy to do it, I chose this. My social life has become busy: dinner or lunch with different friends, other events I’m free to enjoy. Living much closer to town allows a quick pop in here or there. There’s a personal freedom that I never allowed myself before. And I love it!
But, and there always is a but, there’s chaos and uncertainty, an unsettled and fleeting feeling of lack of roots or permanence. As my daughter starts projects, from painting to landscaping, room reorganization to furniture purchases, I’m noticing a void I didn’t expect to feel. This is HER home, HER project and I guess I’m a little adrift.
I had a home and while I did not have an equal partnership, I had a place to do these things, to a degree. Without a space besides my own bedroom here, my creativity has to find a new place to live, much like myself a few months ago.
Now that all the initial chaos of moving has abated, I’m starting to look ahead to where I’ll go eventually on my own. And I just don’t know where that is and what it looks like. I’m not very patient sometimes and I want answers. I’m trying to give myself space and time to heal my heart and soul, and truly that’s the biggest goal. But (there it is again, BUT) as I look at small rv’s for sale, look at local and out of state real estate listings, I’m taking in options, wondering what’s next.
It’s hard to stop. Breathe. Settle. Trying not to peer around the corner. Wait for it to reveal itself. So I do. Stay tuned