Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Exhale

I've got a way to go, is how I see it. Despite the fact that this is just my perspective (rather than reality, I strongly suspect), it's forcing me to adapt. The responsibilities are "big" and they are small: getting the kid off to Montreal for a truncated, 2-day school trip that will necessitate preventative comb-outs as soon as she returns - note to reader, I don't fuck with lice anymore; my increasingly busy, and responsible, career compounded by an unexpectedly rewarding intramural side-project that takes just as much time; preparing for the reno (which apparently starts in less than 2 weeks); organizing the numerous details of my trip with M to North Carolina (where she will stay for 6 weeks); M's grade 6 graduation with associated requirement to go shopping-with-tween for stupid shoes and ridiculous dresses worn once, birthdays and dinner parties...

The list goes on.

While, in my youth, I took on stress after stress (not realizing their effects given my intense and anxiety-prone nature), with age (ahem) I realize that I don't love being pulled in all directions. What I love is immersing myself in something without care or responsibility for anything beyond it. (I know, join the club. :-))

I'm trying to take the long view here. It's a busy few months ahead. Some of the time will be busier than others. Some will be messy and tedious. Some will tug me in conflicting directions, necessitating high-stakes, sharp reasoning, the ability to provide expert advice or patience or good will. It's an embarrassment of life-circumstances converging, and I'm trying to contextualize them.

Last month, a woman I sort of knew (very peripherally), died of a horrible illness over the course of 18 months. She left behind a husband, great friends, close family and two children under the age of 12. She was 2 years older than me. She's the third person in my age bracket, I know of, who's died in the last year.

Life is in the moment, and in the quiet other moments which punctuate the loud ones. Even as I scrambled to meet the deadlines of my work today, as I felt insecure, now I write this post peacefully by myself, birds chirping outside. For each social event that seems momentarily obligated, the opportunity to eat and drink with friends sustains me. Parenting, not my core skill, throws me the occasional thrill in a child who uses humour so incisively, I know her grades do not define her. I have money (sort of) to undertake a home-transformation that may well improve the quality of my life (or the look of my house, anyhow, and we know how house-proud I am). Hell, I've got a sewing friend to fit with and a knitting network - both of which enrich my creative life immeasurably. I've got you all, in the blog world - the greatest community ever. I've just got to calm the fuck down.

This time in my life is brief, I know. It's a time free of grief, free of encumbrances (those I don't fabricate, I mean), full of movement. It's a time when I'm not too young and I'm not too old. I haven't lost the past; I don't fear the future. It's important to remember that occasionally.

13 comments:

  1. " I haven't lost the past; I don't fear the future."

    i love it.

    lovely post, lovely lady.

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  2. Bravo!

    "Some will tug me in conflicting directions, necessitating high-stakes, sharp reasoning, the ability to provide expert advice or patience or good will." You'll do fine :).

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  3. Amen. I periodically have to talk myself down from the same rich-life stress levels. It's always a question of reminding myself that I get to make choices, that my busy-ness is a result of choices I made, a rich plethora of choices. I wrote a similar post recently, didn't mention that I'd also had a friend die, bringing not only sorrow, but also perspective, and a determination to celebrate what I have. But also to take care of myself. And calming the fuck down, as you so elegantly put it, is a first step.
    Hope you can.

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    1. Rich-life stress levels - so well put! I should clarify that the woman I've referred to was a good friend of many friends and coworkers, and a woman I knew peripherally in a professional sense. The impact of her death on me is ephemeral. Of course, death of someone young, from illness is terrible. And I feel for her wonderful family and friends who are grieving. I just don't want to overstate my connectedness to her personally.

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  4. What a breathtakingly beautiful post.
    I think you'll be fine. Just remember to breathe and keep in touch with the quiet moments.

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  5. Very well said. It is hard to recognize those good spans of time while we are in them if we only look for the annoyances and stressors. Exhale is right.

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    1. I guess it applies to everyone, all the time :-)

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  6. I really love to read your inner thoughts and perspective. Such wise words. We all need to be reminded of this occasionally. So sad to hear about the loss of your acquaintance. There's nothing that will give you a reality check like death. Losing my father 3 years ago totally changed my view on life. You do have some busy days ahead but glad to hear to plan to take it in stride and have a good perspective. Can't believe you're going to be in NC---so close! I'd love to meet you one day. If you ever find yourself in GA please let me know.......

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  7. How eloquently you put all this into perspective. I am in awe.

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    1. You are living through a seriously challenging (and meaningful) time. I'm in awe of how you are navigating that...

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