We have been informed that next year, we will only have the typical Wed/Thursday/Friday break for Thanksgiving, but for this year, we have the whole week. And it is delightful. The weather is quite Novembery today-damp, grey, cool, but not cold. This is Southern Missouri, you know. I awoke quite early, around four, and delivered food for a few hours. After that, I came home and was suddenly very tired. I think the food delivery all weekend finally caught up with me. And now, I am slowly working on straightening the library for Thanksgiving. It's pretty straight, floor swept, but with three boys in the house nothing lasts for too long. I have been sitting near the faux fireplace heater when I am too cool and then away when I am too warm. It's never just right, is it?
My thoughts have been peaceful-a discovery of self. Or a rediscovery. At times when I am too stressed, I feel fragile, flippery (is that a word?-I feel it), outside the world and odd. When I am relaxed, I feel fine. I know I need to build relationships, but I am okay as it is. Sometimes, driving around, delivering food alone, I come to all the conclusions, and I understand it all, but it slips away before I can share. I think it all boils down to not learning healthy boundaries, not being safe talking about feelings growing up, and not being taught how to deal appropriately with strong feelings.
As a parent, I wanted to do so much better, but I know I didn't talk about feelings enough either. I sort of thought maybe if we all just kept our chin up, it would all work out.
Eh, well. It's a process, I suppose. I think the real strength is not in unbridled optimism, but in the knowledge that even if it doesn't work out like we planned-we will get through it.
Anyway, there's much more to the journey, but it doesn't all need to be shared. Sometimes I wish I had learned so many lessons so many years ago, and perhaps that is what a good therapist can help someone do, but you know me. I'd rather take the long way and buy something fun with my money.
Work is fine. It isn't easy, but it is fine. Sometimes it is boring, but let's be honest. Everything is boring sometimes. Sometimes I thought about teaching math and new classes coming in and out all day and I wondered if I was up for that the rest of my life. I knew I wasn't feeling it for cross-cat. At least in my room, I get to make my schedule, teach a wide variety, and do things my way. As it is, I am slowly adding more. I know I could do much better and much more, but my brain will lock everything out, refuse to do something new until, somehow, it loosens, and clarity and understanding wash over me, and I can see and add something new. I simply cannot force myself to learn/change until that chemical wash floods my brain. I really can't describe it. Does anyone else feel this?
I really long for a warm, cozy, fisherman sweater, tweedy, menswear-inspired wardrobe this fall. I am not buying clothes this fall, but it is what I want.
My backyard fence needs repaired. I am waiting someone to volunteer-name their price. It is hard always asking for help. No, not hard. Just discouraging when noone wants to help.
I am eager to travel somewhere. But, bills first. I haven't really been entertaining the idea of travel, because I want to pay down my debts. Then I can focus on the fun. For now, so much else exists to derive pleasure from. The rushing warmth of morning coffee. The joy of a payment hitting my account. A meal the kids enjoy. A good YouTube video, and snuggling into bed at night. All of these bring their own magic to an ordinary day.
I do want to shop. I want to find the perfect item which holds the essence of the feeling of .... something...I crave. Some lifestyle, some dream. Something magical that puts the pieces together and ties a bow on the top.
I really must visit a cozy New England lighthouse on a stormy, blustery day soon. I think that is a reasonable thing to expect. Cozy candles in lighted windows, and white curtained paned windows promising warmth and companionship. This is what I need.
No comments:
Post a Comment