Spring 2012:
Monday to Friday - metropolis dweller -
weekend arrives and it's home to my feller.
From smallish apartment to split level sprawl
both places I live offer much to enthrall.
The house offers comforts of family home;
small space of apartment incites me to roam.
One offers routines and familiar space -
in other I'm restless - I fuss and I pace.
The sounds of big city, the sights and the scents
invoke different feelings and odd sentiments.
I wake up each morning not sure where I'm at,
and must confess there is excitement in that.
Each day's an adventure - just what lies in store?
Each day's a conundrum, but seldom a bore.
I'm learning to cope with the changes I face,
and learning to see that I've more than one place.
Sharon Flood Kasenberg - April, 2012
Change is in the air again. I've felt it for a while, blowing my routines off course and strewing my well ordered thoughts around like the litter that laid in wait under melting snowbanks. Somehow the thought of change often seems just about that appealing at times - another mess to deal with - another chore to tackle. Change can be like the x in an algebra problem; another unknown to figure out - another mystery to solve.
The thought of making changes to the way you live is daunting. I know that's true, because I thought a lot about making changes in 2010 and 2011. And when I finally began making changes in 2012, I realized that actually shaking things up a bit isn't usually as bad as anticipating doing something new.
Let me backtrack a bit. The end of 2010 was hard. My younger son left our home for two years, and I missed him a lot. The next year didn't get much better. At the end of that year my older son decided to take a course in Toronto. He was excited about learning a new skill set, but anxious about living away from home. So I decided to go with him and help him settle in. When I first proposed the idea to my husband he seemed relieved, because he'd also come to conclusion that I should help our son adapt to his new surroundings - but he'd been afraid to raise the subject with me.
So it was all sorted out - we found an apartment to sublet and I became a woman with a split life. I had dreaded the thought of change initially, but I soon adapted. In fact, I look back fondly on the days I spent exploring the big city on my own. I learned a lot about myself during those months. I became closer to my son because I spent more time with him. Oddly, I grew closer to my husband by spending less time with him, because we no longer took each other for granted the way old married couples often do. It became a treat to see him two or three days a week.
I got to spend a lot of time with my older sister who lives in Toronto, and we got to know each other in new ways - as adults, as mothers, and as friends. I learned to be more spontaneous - I had to - my life changed so much from one day to the next. And yes, my waking thought each morning was "Where am I today?" Oddly, Wherever I was, I found reasons to be happy that I was there.
I learned my way around Toronto and enjoyed roaming those mean streets alone as much as I had in my early twenties. Every single day in Toronto brought some new discovery - a street that bore the same name as the one I grew up on, a lovely little park - or a house that caught my fancy. My son and I found some great restaurants to dine at and established shopping routines in the new neighbourhood.
I figured out places to go when the apartment was too hot in the middle of the day, and routes we could walk in the evenings and feel safe. The change that I'd initially dreaded became an adventure - and when it ended my old life seemed a little boring. Soon I got back into my old, mundane routines - and yet, all was not quite the same. I had learned that I was a lot more adaptable than I'd ever given myself credit for - and I began to crave new experiences in a way that I never had before.
A lot has changed in my life since the end of 2012. My younger son returned home, went back to school, and then found a nice girl to get married to - bing, bam, boom - and he was gone again, off to grad school with his new wife. Now that he's moved out permanently our house feels a bit big for the three of us. Our taxes are rising, our neighbour is becoming annoying, and it feels like it's time to make another change.
Ugh. Here I swallow hard because it is hard to contemplate change. Even though I know from past experience (like surviving the year 2012) that the process of adapting to new surroundings and experiences can be invigorating, the thought of making any sort of move is still a bit frightening.
I've talked before about my love of houses. I'm pretty emotionally attached to the one I'm in. We're going to be leaving this place a whole lot better than it was when we came here. No more shag carpeting, ugly wallpaper or broken down cupboards. The weeds out back have been pulled out and I've invested a lot of time in my gorgeous perennial garden. We've given this place new windows and a new roof - but we've given more than that. The house I've always dubbed "Mike Brady's split level dream" has been imbued with the memories of another family - smiles and laughter coating its interior as thickly as the layers of paint we've repeatedly applied. I know I won't be able to leave without a backward glance....
But once I get where I'm going I'll get going on the process of making that new place my home - with a little help from my husband and son. We'll add more coats of paint and yank up some of the more questionable decorating choices left behind by some other well meaning family. We'll enjoy transforming another shell into a home. We'll have new places to explore and new neighbours to get to know. We'll miss aspects of the old life, but I'm pretty sure we'll have fun figuring out how to create a whole new experience for ourselves. All of our current routines will shift, and we'll begin yet another phase in our lives.
I've learned that change, while scary, is necessary to my growth - I know I can rise to the challenges that lie ahead. I've done hard things before. I am a hearty weed that can survive another uprooting and flourish in new soil. I can, and will, find my place once more. And while I cycle between anxiety and heady excitement there is only one thing that remains certain - everything changes.
Change is in the air again. It doesn't have to be an imposition in my life. I can choose to see it as an adventure - a new start. I still don't know what the algebraic x will prove to be, and maybe that's okay too. I can bat away the thought of change and try to dive into the process.
I'll let you know how well that works for me. Right now all I know is this:
Change is coming.
No comments:
Post a Comment