Friday, March 30, 2012

Getting to Goodbye

I've been away from Apple Moon for some time so I reread some of my posts hoping the distance would glean some objectivity. I came away from it wondering what Apple Moon is really about? One could justifiably criticize this blog for being ill-defined. In my defense, I think the lack of focus actually reveals something about my life right now. This year has been a never-ending game of whack-a-mole -- poised and ready to clobber whatever pops up whether it be a 6-year old's meltdown, coping with autism, insufferable pantyhose and returning to the workforce or conquering the weed whacker. My little snippet at the top of the page reads: "ramblings of a former stay-at-home-mom who said goodbye to the world she thought she lived in." (key word = ramblings) It started me thinking: how did I get to goodbye?

I spent years building up to goodbye. I kept waiting for certainty to strike but in hindsight, I think it was futile. Emotionally, I was already there but I was waiting for the practical considerations to resolve themselves and the trepidation to ease. That day would never come.

I'm not sure what made me lunge through that door to the other side of my life. Was it intense dissatisfaction or a streak of boldness? I'll never know but one early summer evening, the words I held in for so long came tumbling out. And there it was; the words, so palpable, hung in mid air. I don't think I was prepared for what came next. You rehearse it in your mind but not the part that comes after. Would I want to reel it back inside -- rewind and pretend it never happened or journey forward into a brave new world?

My true feelings simmered to the surface the morning after. Are you familiar with that moment when you first wake up? When you hover somewhere between dreamland and consciousness and all the "shoulda, coulda, woulda's" of your world are at bay? It's a time when your feelings are pure  -  undiluted by the fixtures of your mind. The first thing I felt the morning after my big decision was undeniable relief. To this day, I believe that sure-mindedness is a gift; a gift that fuels me for my passage to what comes next.