Wednesday, June 19, 2019

Moving

I'm feeling vulnerable from my last post. I thought about deleting it, but instead I'll just add another point to it haha. One aspect of loneliness that I forgot to touch on yesterday was how lonely it can sometimes feel to live in the fertile world, constantly hearing about everyone's kids and their normal daily living. It's not uncommon for me to be the only adult in a room without children (young or grown).

However.

I may feel a little lonely at times, but I feel a hell of a lot of other things too:
happy, content, grateful, and looking forward to the rest of my life.

A year ago I wrote about beginning again and I think it's pretty relevant to where I am today too. I'm in a new home in a new town, setting up and settling in. Although I've been cooking again for a year now (what I wrote about in the aforementioned post), I previously shared that I just recently decided to learn how to quilt. And I like it a lot. I like the ideas, the process, and the finished product. It's nice to enjoy something leisurely again, a feat that many people take for granted.

Recovering from major loss takes years and requires a seemingly unsurmountable amount of energy. Whenever I feel frustrated with myself in the moment, I try to remind myself of how far I have come. I hope you do the same for yourself.

"Everyday we're breathing is a day we've won." -John Fullbright's Moving


Lyrics:
Old man broke down on the side of the road
Stop and see if maybe I can lighten his load
He opened the door and he thanked me in kind
Told me the words that would open my mind

(he said)
Don’t worry about gasoline
We’re moving
Don’t worry about the tv screen
We’re moving
Don’t worry about the bombs that fall
We’re moving
Don’t worry about nothing at all

There’s a man in the alley just a’singing the blues
Telling everybody that they’re born to lose
Well one day he’ll wake up and see the sun
See that everyday we’re breathing is a day we’ve won

There’s times the lines get hard to see
And there’s days the haze takes over me
But in the end you’re gonna grit your teeth
And keep moving

Well the world will keep turning when I’m dead and gone
I’ll see you again and it won’t be too long
Maybe we’ll meet in a place where there ain’t no pain
Until that day my song remains

4 comments:

  1. You are amazing for how far you've come, for the losses you've sustained, for the life you lost and are rebuilding on your terms. I love that, "Every day we're breathing is a day we've won."

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    1. Thank you. <3 I really, really appreciate your validation. That's something that's lacking in my offline life.

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  2. It's such a cliche, but taking up a new hobby is one of the best ways to meet people. And the beauty of it is that the shared interest is more of a focus than people's backgrounds and circumstances. Though, having done something similar myself, I can't help but notice that those of us who have really gone deep into the craft at a (relatively) young age are often those without kids. It's an opportunity thing :-) And so I find that, without looking for them explicitly, I now have a lot of friends without kids and a world in which I am not the Only One. And our conversation is never about children or childlessness, it is about all the stuff of life which actually is for us. I think you have an amazing future ahead.

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    1. What a great comment. Thank you!

      Yes, I love having common interests with others. Luckily, I found when conversation did turn to having kids in the quilting classes I was taking, it never felt isolating. Everyone was there for the quilting really, not mom talk.

      Thank you so much for your kind words. <3

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