Its almost 4 am, I can’t sleep. Actually, it’s been a few days since I’ve had my full eight hours. And, I know why. I am embarking on big life changes, AGAIN, and I’m bone deep, nauseatingly over tired about it.
My whole life I have been surrounded by those who stayed in the same city, in the same house, in the same jobs and loved it, or didn’t, and tolerated it with a form of internal quiet respect. Some deviated, of course, and it was their stories I wanted to hear. I have always had a gypsy blood about me and would take random trips, sometimes without notice, just too soothe it. It’s insatiable and if others can pick up and start over, why cant I?
I have been praying a lot lately, which I normally don’t do. A basic spiritual rule I go by is, when I need to ask I pray, when I need to listen, I meditate. I need to listen more as it is not a strong suit of mine. Yet, lately, there are questions. Not, am I doing the right thing or am I making a mistake kind of questions. More like, are my kids going to be ok if I do this, will I feel settled enough where I’m going to finally feel like I can put my feet solid on the ground? Will the love of a gypsy lifestyle ever leave these not-so-young bones? I mean really. Right now, in this very moment, I am craving to pack what I have, get in my car and drive away. Don’t even know where, though I know, its not here.
I know I don’t want to live in a big city; I’m not one for concerts and Costco’s. I’m more of a walk in the woods, shop in small markets, live in quiet hamlets and traffic free neighborhoods. I’m a bit of an introvert when it comes to my evening and weekend living and I like it that way.
This morning was one of those mornings where, even though I am sleep deprived to the point I am starting to stumble and trip over shadows, I prayed. It is misty here today, which is extremely rare in our dry Southern Alberta weather. So, as I stood in the park, head lifted to the cool wet drops I closed my eyes and prayed. Tears formed as the weight on my shoulders lifted just a bit and I began to reminisce. I remembered doing this exact thing when I neared the ocean while visiting on the west coast. It helped me recall my long, never forgotten, nine hour walk, in thick rainy haze, around St John, Newfoundland. And the time I stopped on the highway at 4am in the middle of somewhere side road Manitoba to watch, from the back of my car, with a snoring dog beside me, the fog lift as the sun rose on a clear glass lake. No words describe, no photograph can capture those moments. And I prayed, in the mist, I would find a place where I could breathe like that every single day.
I urged my parents (miss them dearly) to watch over my adult children as they too take on their own terrifying yet exciting adventures. I plead for courage to do this on my own. That though, surrounded and encouraged by friends and loved ones, it is, honestly, all my own. The work, the clean up, the constant barrage of strangers marching through my home while it’s up for sale is hard, messy and uncomfortable. The anxiety ridden task of job hunting at my age is, well, it is ridiculous really. I don’t have a thumb on current resume designs, though my daughter put a picture of herself on hers and I thought that was brilliant. The wording and rewording of cover letters and finger crossing hope that my references don’t forget who I am or what I’ve done and make me sound like an absolute admin goddess to say the least. Then! It’s the ever overwhelming occupation of finding another roof to call my own. The unknowns of that alone fires up the angry devil in me and sows seeds of doubt in all my darkest places. Its financially crippling being between jobs and moving to another province, did you know? People just stare at me with dumfounded awe at the idiocy of it. ‘At your age?’ ‘You are brave; I could never pick up and start over like that.’ ‘Are you sure?’ Or the silent, hurt look followed by useless chatter to hide the underlining emotions…that one hurts the most. All while I carry the over bearing burden of making sure my children are ok whatever they are doing, carrying on a tricky long distant relationship, making sure my dog eats because she knows change is happening and I don’t know how to tell her, ‘its ok, you are coming with’. This is a necessary hardship and I’m on this path on purpose but very much alone.
I realized in my morning mindfulness that I don’t need to rely on that call to calm my shattered nerves or ease my tired soul. I don’t need to toss and turn over words people say that stick like burrs on my nerves. Today, I am going to sell my home. Today, I’m going to enjoy lunch and visits with friends. I’m going to take my Nals on an extended walk to her favourite places. And tonight, I’m going to sleep like a lion, because I am going to live where my mind goes when it needs peace; near water, and mountain and forest. And that is that.
Thank you again my loyal three followers for reading the ramblings of a lost gypsy soul. I’m getting there folks.