We moved north of the city just shy of three years ago. It was a decision we came to quickly and without regret. Our boys acclimated with very little issue, my husband was quick to find his groove and I finally found myself standing in a space that not only offered me the physical space I’d always dreamed of to create but a quiet, I had never experienced before.
As we settled in, I watched my family flourish. Working from home, paired with renovations and all the unexpected day-to-day moments that popped up meant the distraction of the move lasted nearly 2 years for me. Now in the middle of our third, I’m finding that for me, the joy and sense of contentment I’ve been happily watching on the faces of my loved ones, isn’t reflective in my own.
I love that we moved. I adore our new home. I’ve made friends have a studio space and an office. My ability to sleep through the night has returned as has my drive for regular exercise and carving time to get outside and reconnect with nature, incredible. I was able to leave the chaos of the city and replace it with the quiet and natural beauty of the country.
Then why am I not happy?
What I didn’t expect was that once the dust had settled and the quiet became my norm, that I’d be left with all the residue of the last 8 years leading up to now. For me, the white noise of city living had become my crutch to truly avoid my own feelings and wants. With this now lifted, what I’m Ieft with is me. The space I’m currently in reminds me of the scene in The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy sees behind the curtain. When the power of Oz is revealed, and the truth is laid bare. That’s me – I’m currently a woman who must confront the reality that the curtain has been lifted and I have nowhere else to hide. I didn’t realize how much I was hiding – behind work, family and all the distractions city living offers.
Over the last 6 months, I have been dealing with the fallout. Riding the emotional rollercoaster has been challenging.
Would I change it?
I want to peel it all away.
Has it been petrifying?
What I know is that things are starting to come back into focus. In order to reconnect with myself, in order to paint and make and create again, I’ve had to allow myself the time to navigate through all the chaos and clutter that I’ve held onto for years. In doing this, in allowing myself space to not know what’s coming next (do we ever really know?) I’m finding the space within myself to breathe and be. I have days filled with tears and days filled with laughter. Battling fear and self-doubt is daunting but a battle I will win. In each day, my focus becomes clearer and more peels away. I’m starting to create again. My confidence is returning and most importantly, the true me is starting to shine.
Is this a process that will ever end?
I hope not.
I’d like to believe, like sharks, we need to keep moving. By accepting change is a constant, it’s not about finding an end but embracing the ride. That is our evolution, times of pain, confusion, and self-awareness come new possibilities and adventure.