Five years ago I launched this blog and here I am. Still writing. Sure, there are long absences, but I always make my way back to this place. In between, I write in journals, in diaries saved on my computer and always, inevitably, on the backs of ATM envelopes (whatever will I do when those become obsolete? Write on napkins?)
What’s changed over five years? Plenty as it turns out. And then again, not so much.
I’ve taken up rock climbing and added ropes, harnesses and carabiners to the list of things that I will not give away. I’ve gathered new friends around me, like-minded souls who I join for tea and meditation. I’ve put away the riding gear for now, sold the saddle and the horse. I’ve written my first book.
My beloved daughters have grown into capable young women who have launched independent lives at a university two hours away. Granted, we have lines of communication open every day via text, Skype and SnapChat. If either of them needs me, I am in my car and on my way. Always. That will never change (say what you like about my parenting; sorry, but I just don’t care what anyone thinks). My husband has evolved into semi-retired life that takes him away sailing in Florida for most of the winter. A restless soul, he’s always spent a lot of time away from home. For years, we’ve been two ships passing in the night; perhaps now we’re more like one small sailboat and a highly determined climber scaling the lighthouse.
And so I find myself in newfound solitude. Healing, blessed solitude.
I read a post on Facebook lately along the lines of: “Don’t fret about having a messy house full of noisy kids because one day you’ll have a neat household with no kids living at home, and you’ll be old and lonely.” Or something along those lines. I’m paraphrasing.
My immediate thought was wow, if you’re not happy in your own company now, aren’t you already lonely?
My kids have flown the nest, and my husband is in perpetual flight. I’m alone a lot, but I’m certainly not lonely. I like my own company. More than ever, as it turns out. I thrive in solitude. I seek it out and always have.
And it turns out I’m pretty messy, left to my own devices. The kitchen counter still serves as a landing area, but instead of my kids backpacks and homework the piles are all my own miscellany: half-written lists, a pair of gloves, a spool of thread and a screwdriver or two. Who knew?
So I’ve still got plenty of Things to Give Away, and more time than I ever had before to devote to the process. There’s so much more to sort through, ponder over and gather into words. I’m happy where I am, and looking forward to so much more.