There are some deep stirrings and upwellings from the long-undisturbed layers in my bedrock. I haven’t figured out yet what they mean, or where they will take me, but it feels like it’s the roadmap for the next chapters of my life. What does one who learned how to breathe and swim and make a life in chaos and upheaval do with peace and stability? I don’t know yet. I suspect, like everything, it’s about trust.
Learning to be a wife again, to share parenting duties and household burdens and joys, to incorporate a life with five children instead of just three. Learning to share space and time again, and dropping the no-longer necessary armor from my solo-parenting years. It’s all a process, all about trust.
I’m comfortable in the space of uncertainty. Oddly enough, that fact gives me some certainty in navigating these new shoals of my life. There is stability where for so long there was nothing beneath my feet, and even though that stability is still so unfamiliar, comfort with uncertainty in my surroundings is something of which my navigational skills are finely honed and bedrock confident.
I feel like a mobius, both coming and going. A paradox, this because of that, but not that without this. I am laced in finely wrought tension, where the creation is beautiful beyond comprehension, now brought forth from the stored, vulcanized silks spun my entire life.
5 thoughts on “Warp and Weft”
You have a talent at weaving words to express your thoughts. It is beautiful.
You are amazingly talented. Good luck as you discover a new normal.
Sending my love and prayers.
This. All of this.
Life is in flux for everyone, always. But living extreme versions of that, for prolonged lengths of time, always leaves one better enabled to roll with smaller punches. (And usually leaves some adjustment disorder in its wake….). Stay aware if what your mind is doing and whether it’s proportional to the moment at hand. Hopefully you’ll settle into a safe mental space that let’s you enjoy all that is good in your life.
You’re absolutely right, Em. I’m still trying to sort all this out, and there are a lot of moments where I have to stop, think, and feel what’s *actually* happening, and not what my fright-or-flight system might be processing. It’s truly a process of unfolding, and laying down the no-longer-needed armor. I hope I can do it, too. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty confident in that hope.
Thanks for coming back. I really appreciate you.
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