Happy Valentine's Day!
Apparently, it's the middle of February. Like, what? How? Life has been coming at me real fast lately so I've been trying to be intentional and slow. Since we're already in the middle of the second month of the year I suppose now is a better time than any to wax poetic about stuff, right?
I spent the latter end of December 2022 home with the kids whilst my husband went to Idaho to be with his mom who passed on the 29th. I'll talk on this topic more, as there are a lot of words to say, but it was a very trying and eye opening time for us. We also experienced the sudden loss of my auntie the day after Christmas, which, again, I have so much to say and added to the weight of the time. That's a story for another day. So one solo parenting flight to frigid Idaho (I told my husband I'm never going to do that again. I love him so much and the circumstances were dire but no, never wanting to fly a red eye with two kids by myself ever again.) and two funeral services later, I'm still not feeling a sense of normalcy, which, I mean, really what's normal anyway? I don't know.
So like everyone else that has access to HBOMax, I've been watching The Last of Us. We started watching it late. I think 3 episodes had been out by then and I had heard good things so I wanted something to distract me. I was expecting to watch Pedro Pascal be super smoldering hot and paternal while protecting The "Little Bear" Bella Ramsey from mushroom zombies. Sure, sure I got some of that but what I got instead was a love story between Nick Offerman's and Murray Bartlett's characters, Bill and Frank, that I was emotionally unprepared for and left me sobbing to the point my husband had to ask if I was okay. (I was not.)
Now, why would an episode about two men who find and love each other for 20 years smack me so hard in the face I couldn't keep it together? They had 20 years to love and be in love and grow and experience life with each other despite all of the things happening around them. The blessing was in the time they had and what I was feeling after the episode was the reeling loss of time we no longer have with the ones we lost. I thought of my father-in-law and my uncle losing their life partners and I broke down thinking of how devastating it would feel to lose mine. It was cathartic. Beautiful and cathartic. I cried so ugly. It was great.
The episode stuck with me. The Linda Ronstadt song, the little strawberries, and the now ever present notion that at any moment time gets taken away from you. Really, all we have is that, right? Love and time. So spend the time you have loving the people you got, loving the life you have, because it can just cease to exist. Let's also not forget that I watched Hamilton 3 times in one week and their ending song encompasses the passing of time and what one does with it. Time and love are the themes I'm hitting on is what I'm saying if I haven't said it directly enough.
So that being said, what am I doing with my time and will I be doing what I love? As of now I've been trying to find a semblance of self. I think I did a lot of healing last year. I am trying to be more honest with myself about what my limitations are while also dreaming about the things I'd like to accomplish and show the world. I am terrible at grinding. Horrible at it. I realize I need to take a slower pace. If I grind I end up hurting myself. Literally. I have back and shoulder pain after my marathon week of work delivering a large order. It's been fun trying to treat it. (By fun I genuinely mean it is enjoyable going to PT and having a person teach me different exercises and stretches so I can feel more at home in my body. My PT is remarkable and awesome. I am grateful for her.) We still don't know it's actual cause. I don't know a lot of things...but I do know some things.
I know I want to make more art.
I know I want to make things with my hands.
I know I want to learn more about the things that interest me and bring me joy.
I know I want to spend more time with my family.
I know I want to experience life with them.
I know I want to get to a place where doing those things can support me and my family financially.
I still grapple with impostor syndrome, perfectionism and fear of failure. I don't think those things will go away. The wanting to make things and the need to create, that will also never go away. So I'm going to take the time to do what I love with the people I love. Do it messy. Lean into the things I'm good at. Ugly cry through it all. I am very adept at ugly crying. Champion ugly crier.
Things have shifted. Things are shifting.
This is a long ramble of a blog post. Reading this must have taken a long, long time. (heh)
I suppose if there is a take away from this long, long post, is that we only have so much time so...do what you love, make of it what you will....and I love you. :)