Perspective.
Failure versus feedback on a less than optimal course of action.
Wrong versus still figuring it out.
Falling apart versus opportunity to realign and rebuild.
Losing versus concrete appraisal of performance.
Loss versus letting go of that which traps us.
What do I want now? I’ve been stuck and stagnant for years. This has become clear as I stand at the precipice having to release, reestablish and reinvent myself and my life. How much of what is do I take with me? Does what I keep hold true value or is it merely signifiers of what I’ve had and who I’ve been?
I do not want to leave the place I’ve allied home for the past 13 years. Yet, I must. It’s not healthy to remain there. Not good for my physical health and well-being. The place has had a clandestine love affair with black mold, spiders, termites, and other creatures that love to go spelunking in the drains. But, oh, the space!
Mom said that this is God trying to ply my hand loose from the plow. Not quite a gospel plow, but on an old rusted plow that whines loudly and obscenely if you can manage to get it to move.
This home is no longer in the best interest of my mental and emotional health. My awareness of some sinister energy stalking and haunting me grows with each entry and departure. I feel heavy coming in and a little buzz of excitement when I leave. I’ve not written any text worthy of my pride for nearly six months.
I consulted with a witch to cleanse my home and shift my fortunes, to reconnect with a sense of home and fit. Charcoal, myrrh, sage, eucalyptus, a cauldron, many essential oils later and the passage of time tell me that it is–and has been–time to go. There’s a sadness and a relief competing for the spotlight on my emotional stage. I hope that optimism and indomitable spirit swoops in like an undiscovered ingenue to secure that space in the lighted circle.
One of my colleagues suggested that I need to be open to this change and focus on what is to be gained. Peace of mind, fertile ground to replant and, perhaps, time and space to discover my satisfied mind. All possibilities, yet I persist in holding on. Holding on to sunken costs. Defying God’s plan, perhaps. I am and have been tired of scorching summers that make half of my home uninhabitable with the evening sun roasting my living room, dining room and sunroom. The winter months turn those same spaces into a mausoleum and the $100 monthly heating bill never quite makes those spaces comfortable. Autumn and Spring are my friends. They allow me to host dinner parties and game nights. To roast some potatoes in the oven. They allow me to be me.
So, why do I hang on to a space that no longer serves me (and I’m aware of the shitty service)? In short, it’s what I know. It’s comfortable. I understand the intricacies of the thermodynamics in this space. I know when to close the windows and blinds before the sun hits each of the 21 Windows and when to open them after the sun has passed. It’s a game of Thermodynamic Tag for me and I’ve gotten pretty good at it. I know how to get the water temperature in the shower just right. I know where to place my parabolic space heater while showering during the fall and winter. I have a robust collection of hoodies and fleece loungewear so I don’t always have to lounge under a blanket. If someone else came to me with these gripes and concerns, I’d advise them to get the hell out and move on. But from the inside, the appeal of adaptability and overcoming these issues is evident.
It’s just a matter of perspective.
Just, perspective.
