That’s what I see when I look in the mirror these days.
It finally sunk in.
Everything in my life changed and will never be the same again.
After 30 years in one spot, the upheaval and disorenting impact of moving hit me like a tsunami when I wasn’t looking.
I had been feeling somewhat optimistic until the day I literally crashed. My body said no. My mind said no. I stopped dead in my tracks and wept.
The Unexpected Visitor
I anticipated some turmoil with our move (house and office). I didn’t expected the overwhelming feelings of sadness, being unanchored, lost, irritable, confused and just plain feelings of grief.
I was not prepared for the grief. I guess, intellectually, I knew I might experience a sense of loss. What I did not count on was the enormity of my sadness and how it affected me in every way.
Hard to focus, hard to sleep, feeling exhausted, feeling distraught, weepy, crabby, angry. All the feelings associated with loss.
Its Not All Bad
I am not quite past the deep sadness yet. There are bright spots. I am clearing out the accumulated junk and stuff of a lifetime that no longer serves me in a positive way. The sense of loss is heavy.
I let myself feel the loss. I respect these feelings and I have been observing myself.
For now, I am trying to be tolerant of my less productive days. I am not pushing myself to get to the gym like I did before (working through the pain). Sometimes, when I get really tired, I let myself sleep.
In time, the wounds will heal. Fresh leaves will emerge from the tree of my heart. In nature, especially here in the dry Northern California valley of the moon, we known that if there are not natural events to thin out the dense undergrowth we may experience raging, out of control fires. There are benefits to small, controlled burns, like mushrooms growing in the aftermath and the ability of formerly crowed out trees to shoot skyward.
In time, I will be myself, stronger and wiser. I am in recovery. Day by day, I get a new chance to learn and grow.