It’s strange around here. I keep catching myself in little moments holding my breath- pausing and waiting for something- noticing the absence of tension- and wanting to call it something else… and then feeling off-kilter because of the quiet… normalcy. I’m not so dramatic as to think I’ve got post traumatic stress syndrome. Yet, when someone lives in a pressure-cooker for almost three years, and suddenly the steam-release valve is thrown, it may take some time to trust the new normal.
So much for my gift for words, eh? It’s hardly eloquent to think of myself bumbling around the house, trying to figure out What Next… but that’s exactly what I’m doing. Slowly I’ve managed to find most of the stuff I need (with a few notable exceptions like my watercolors and the kids’ books) and have made a big dent in the garage full of boxes.
I have a list as long as my arm of things that need my attention. Maybe they’ve been there for a long time- I don’t know. It’s hard to notice the match under your foot when your whole life is on fire. And then there’s more sorting. Every time I try and tackle something on my list, I realize I haven’t unpacked the box I need for that particular task yet… and then I’m off on a wild goose chase again. Maybe I just need to stop and finish getting the house set up before I plunge forward.
What a blessing to have plain, old, normal problems again. Hello, life. Nice to see you again- it’s been a while. Yes, we look a little different, but oh how I’ve missed you.
Dandelion Mama 
You still have a way with words, a way to paint a picture with your words. It is refreshing.
Your new normal…a normal that has a bit of peace attached to it. Living outside the threat of the pressure cooker exploding is your blessing. And soon you will learn to not fear an explosion that is not coming. Your new normal.
May your new normal be filled with lots of laughter, lots of love, lots of wonderful memories and lots of peace.
Welcome to your new life!! It will be wonderful (I am not naive enough to think it won’t have trials, but it will still be wondeful!)!!
Can’t wait to hear more about your new normal.
Lots of love, lots of prayers and hope for your future…
And don’t forget to do something for YOU!
Do me a favor and don’t rule out PTS.
Very real possibility there.
Personally, I find this quite eloquent: “It’s hard to notice the match under your foot when your whole life is on fire.” What Next is an amazing step after all you’ve been through. You are starting to think about the future, about rearranging all the pieces of your former life, about more than simply breathing through the next hour.
I’m with Em – PTS could be a possibility. Allow yourself to continue to adjust. It takes time – and in my experience, just when you think you can handle all the changes, that’s when it all goes to pot and you have to re-adjust yet again. Nothing wrong with that – it’s part of the process.
Welcome, new normal!
I was watching speech during the (Oscars, I think). A documentary about a woman who survived the Holocaust had just won an award. The director spoke his thanks. the woman whom it was all about was going to speak next. The orchestra drowned her out as she started (they were ready for a commercial) and somehow she still held her ground until they stopped and gave her the chance to speak. She spoke of the people she lost and the struggle to survive. What did she value now? The phrase that really stuck out to me: “The magic of a boring evening at home.”
find it here:
I made a concerted effort since then to enjoy the everyday quiet and peace of home. Your post today adds to that goal.