Tikka on New Year's Day.
I deliberately decided not to reopen this blog with a New Year's Day post thinking that was just too much pressure, but the truth is, much as I miss this blog, it has been difficult to begin again. It seemed appropriate therefore to refer back to my last post and doing so made me smile because once again I had a photo of Tikka, and once again I was thinking about winter weather. The temperature was only 28 this morning when I walked and 23 on New Years, but despite what I said in November, I was cold. Although Tikka and I were both well bundled, I probably needed the bundling more than she did. We tend to move at a brisk pace, with Tikka for the most part happily prancing along, but we seem to disagree on the feasibility of stopping for breaks on windy hill tops. Much as I enjoy our early, pre-dawn walks and the peaceful joy of watching the sky lighten and the world waken around us, I am also occasionally impatient on those hilltops as the icy wind beats against my legs and face.
I wouldn't stop walking in the mornings though, and I have to thank Tikka for getting me back into that routine, rain or shine, fair or foul weather. The return to routine, and yes, discipline, has been one of the rewards of my brief period clearing-out, both externally and internally. There is still more to do; I suspect there is always more to do in whatever place or stage in life we may find ourselves. And yet the processes of cleaning out has helped me clarify my own thoughts and needs. Or perhaps that should be the other way around, the process of clarifying my thoughts and needs has helped me let go of things.
Anyway, I have
- Finally tackled George's nightstand drawers and his boxes of papers.
- Cleaned out my closet and this time around found it far simpler to see what to keep and what is no longer a part of my life. Some items were sold. Most were donated. I got my own personal value from them, now they should just go to anyone who will use them.
- Rearranged the furniture in the house in a way that seems comfortable to me.
- Unpacked and cataloged fabric and yarn.
- Worked at organizing and setting up the studio upstairs.
- Cleaned out closets and drawers.
- Celebrated various seasonal holidays with merriment, much cooking, and general good cheer.
- Taken another short trip to San Antonio to see my aunt.
- Picked up my knitting and needlepoint again.
I've also spent a great deal of time on the deep work of wending my way through and sorting out my own inner clutter and turmoil as well as my own insecurities arising from my inability to control that inner turmoil. That process has perhaps been simultaneously more and less successful than the above physical cleaning-out. But progress has been made, and I am ready to move forward.
It appears to me now that, rather than feeling remorse about my occasionally all too public breakdowns and outbursts, and my occasional inability to focus and present things in a clear fashion, I should accept that this is just a part of the grief and transition process that I have needed to experience, be grateful that at least some people are willing to cut me a little slack, and perhaps cut myself a little slack as well.
When George was alive, and declining, I pretty much locked my emotions up tighter than a drum. There was a long time when I felt very isolated and alone and the only way I could cope was to shut everything up inside and throw away the key. This was perhaps not the best choice of coping mechanism, but there is no undoing it now. When that lock finally broke, some months after George died, I was inundated with the torrent of emotions and questions and turmoil which overtook me. The truth is I still have trouble controlling that primitive instinct-driven part of my brain. It is almost as if, once released it grew and grew refusing to be contained. Only at the end of the year did I realize that after years of repression I probably needed to suffer through this period of inner chaos in order to, hopefully, come out as a better and stronger person. I still don't know that this is where I am going to end up -- better and stronger that is -- but I have obviously changed and hopefully grown. Rather than fighting against my more turbulent emotions, I need to accept that this part of myself is as valid and as vital, in both its strengths and its weakensses, as the more rational organized part of myself. As long as I allow myself to use one aspect of my personality to repress another aspect of my personality I can never grow into a wholy integrated person and my fears and weakness will sabotage my efforts despite all my good inentions.
It seems like such a simple realization. I am sure there that the actuality of life will not be as clear as it seems now, but for the first time in a long time, I feel like I am not destined for eternal flakiness. I accept that I won't get my old self back, I accept that I don't really know where I am going, but I can live with that uncertainty because it is the ony way to move forward.
