We aren’t tree’s for a reason you know – we don’t have roots stuck in the ground planting us stationary. We have legs that move!
BA stared at me blankly – I think he was wondering where my mind had gone and when it was planning on coming back – so he just continued to look.
It was winter, and I wanted to move. I wanted to get up and get out. The cold was too much, the snow was only pretty the first time it fell, the pale skin was turning paler, the sniffles kept sniffling. It was winter in Boston, you know?
And, well, the side effects of winter and a girl who swears by seasonal affective disorder do not mix well. They cause random raging emotions and the desire to pack up everything you own, move somewhere with sun and grass as soon as you possibly can, and forget everything you ever knew.
Dramatic, isn’t it? I try to tell myself that every time I start to shove clothes in a duffle bag leaving up un-clicked flight times on the computer.
Anyway – it’s summer now, and those times have passed. They will, unfortunately, come back again. But for now they have passed. They have gone, and ahh, the smell of salt water and the feeling of sand stuck on your legs for hours a day is something I can relate to much more.
And the beach at 4pm – don’t get me started! The best time to sit your butt down with nothing to do but soak in vitamin d to avoid any deficiencies (duh) while eating your packed dinner (pretzels and hummus, anyone?).
It was only a few weeks ago that I was sitting on the beach during my favorite time of the day, snacking on the pretzels, watching the tide roll out, sticking one foot in a puddle and the other resting on top of a sand pile (not castle) that I created by foot digging – making a pile of wet sand, that’s falling over, with your foot.
I felt stuck. Not there, not at that beach, but in life. I felt lost.
I wrote about it. Obviously.
Why? How? When?
I couldn’t answer. I had nothing. I didn’t know why, I didn’t know how, I didn’t know when. I just felt lost.
My favorite place, my favorite season, my favorite time, my favorite everything, on vacation, and I somehow felt stuck. Lost. No where to be found.
I sat there for a few more hours before I started to feel deprived of food – dramatic again, I know, but the pretzels just didn’t do it. Instead of spending the night up in Maine where the air smells like the ocean and sand in your summer home is always ok – I left. I went back to Boston because I felt the urge to move. I felt the need to figure out my life.
I got back, patiently waiting for BA to get home from work while sitting on the couch with no TV on, just sitting, just thinking. He walked in, saw me, saw the dog, and asked what was wrong.
But you were just in maine? You love the beach. You love the summer. What happened?
I don’t know.
My famous answer – I don’t know. The thing is, I did know, but I was afraid to say it. I was afraid to admit what was running through my head. Everything was fine – and that wasn’t fine. I had nothing to worry about – so I worried. I had nothing to cause me anxiety – so I gave it to myself.
Some would call that a lunatic, some would relate. I, personally, googled if I had something wrong in my brain and if I needed a lobotomy.
Good news – I don’t need a lobotomy (I don’t think), I just needed to find a way to take in the slowness. I needed to find a way to stop giving myself anxiety – to stop all around making myself go insane.
My mind works in a funny way. It has this desire to always go, to move, to get to the next thing. It has this energy I can’t get myself to hide. It’s like a 5 year old in a candy store – grabbing this, grabbing that, onto the next, I want this, I want that, I want it all.
And, truly, it is one of the hardest things to tame. Sleep isn’t always a thing, a new plan for BA and me is always in the works, indecisiveness is always there. It’s how I’ve learned to live, and that’s just how it went down from there.
Here’s the thing – recently, writing about slowing down and really trying to get myself to live a less hectic lifestyle – I’ve found that sometimes (a lot of times) it’s not easy to slow down, because the world we live in being so fast, our minds are always on-the-go. I’ve found that I have missed things, like staring at my dog play at the dog park (I don’t have kids yet..), or the ocean moving in and out, or the houses I used to look at and ask my mom if we could buy along the ocean in Maine. I miss sitting down and losing touch with everything and everyone except my beach chair. I’ve found that I’ve been wanting the next thing instead of taking in the present thing.
That, right there, that’s what I’ve been missing. What is right in front of my eyes.
And that’s ok. It’s ok to feel lost, to feel like you don’t know where you are going. It’s all ok. It’s all going to be ok. It’s ok to want the next best thing, because then maybe you’ll realize what you have right in front of you is good enough. Maybe, not feeling ok will show you how to feel ok. Maybe.
Why don’t we just take in what we have right now? Who knows where we will be in a year.
A simple answer from BA. Simple enough to settle my mind.
A simple response from me. Simple enough to settle the living room tension.
So, if you are missing what is right in front of you, try to reposition. That’s the best advice I’ve got. If you missed your kids school play, go to the next. If you’re sitting alone in silence, take it in while you can. You’ll miss it one day. If you’re listening to a barking dog and a rambling family dinner table, also take it in. You’ll miss it one day. If you want to do the hustle and bustle, do you, just make sure your eyes are quick movers – you don’t want to miss the leaves changing this fall – it’s pretty beautiful. If you want to move, bon voyage, just be sure to take in the place you just planted roots before you shut the door behind you. If you hate your job, hate it with passion. You don’t have to be there for long, you aren’t a tree, remember?