Packing up, moving — not just a house, but a lifetime.
I don’t know how I did it.
I got up at 4 AM, sometimes cheated and got up at 3:30. Sometimes really cheating bad and not exercising. It was insane, and I knew it even as I did it. I didn’t think about it — the why, the logistics, the emotional toll. I just did what had to be done for that day.
Dogged perseverance.
Turns out, it didn’t matter that I skipped my exercise routine in the mornings. It was go! go! go! all day long. And lifting weights? Lifting and carrying heavy boxes up and down stairs is a much better workout!
By the end of the day, usually about 10-11:00 PM, somehow I managed to drag myself into the shower before crashing into a deep, grateful blackout sleep.
…Until…rrriiinnnggg…the alarm! at 3:30 AM! Kept hitting snooze until finally dragging myself out of bed before 4…to face whatever the day was going to throw at me.
This is how I felt during the day.
Like my head had too much of my life crammed in all at once.
Taped up tight like the boxes I was packing. No time to really assess things, or purge. Just keep going.
Even though it came at an inconvenient time…for a variety of reasons…it was time to move. As the saying goes: Make plans, God laughs. So, we put everything on hold and packed up a house filled with our entire married life, my office and studio, my husband’s home office, and unfortunately, too many boxes of analog stuff that predates the digital age.
The escrow was short and there was no choice but to get things into boxes as fast as possible, yet in some sort of order so we could find things later. And packed properly enough so things wouldn't break.
What about me? Would I find myself later? Would the move break me?
I was thick in the throes of woes, exhaustion, and irritability about moving when I drew and wrote the part of the story shown above.
Several months have passed, and now it’s November — traditionally the time for gratitude (because of the Thanksgiving holiday). So, I’m gratefully learning acceptance and finding ways to be kinder to myself.
I still get up early to bike/walk and do some yoga. But I don’t go to bed late.
I’m working a little slower than I’d like, so although I put in full days, I don’t get nearly as much done as I did during my self-destructive moving days. And, that’s also because I’m back to taking a lunch break.
When I get into bed, I ignore the daily must-reads, and instead, I read for pleasure before drifting off to sleep ~ one of my very favorite things to do.
I guess the age-old lesson - This Too Shall Pass - is what I’m thinking about today.
The move didn’t break me. I’m starting to find myself again.
Gratitude.
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