This weekend I folded up my summer clothes for storage. The packing away of seasonal items is always a wistful process for me. It was especially so this weekend, as there’s a good chance this is my last summer here. I am likely embarking on the final six-month stretch.
It also reignited that old “groundhog day” feeling, in that another season has ended and yet my life continues to feel so much the same. I’m still living in a small apartment, packing up my stuff only. I was okay though… it was more of a dim thought.
I talked to a friend, the woman who is slowly reappearing in my life by phone after a break-up, who said she is going through the same thing. That feeling of summer ending, another year flown by, and the desire to move on. She has been in her same house for over ten years and said it’s definitely time to go elsewhere, to leave her city and start a new career. I mentioned seeing my other friend and how content she seems with her new baby and how lucky she is to have a child to give meaning to her next twenty years, whereas we have to make it up for ourselves. She agreed and said that yes, it sometimes seems like every person on the planet but her has children.
It was a good conversation, but it’s starting to feel like an old one for me, one that is becoming played out. “What’s next?” feels right around the bend.
A recent Gateway Women post and associated comments have inspired me:
One of the (many) reasons that creativity is so scary is because we know, I mean we really know, that even allowing ourselves a tiny side-trip into it will begin a process of rediscovery and change that could blow the doors off the car. That we might risk taking our happiness into our own hands again and relinquish our identity as “that poor woman who really wanted to have children and it didn’t work out for her.” But we don’t yet know what we’ll put in its place. We’ve got so used to feeling left-out, hard-done-by, unlucky and pissed off that we wonder if we’ve lost the knack of being any other way.
If your back’s against the wall and you’re sufficiently fed up with how you feel about how your life has worked out, please listen to the quiet voice that says to you “I really want to go ice-skating again” or, “Wouldn’t it be great to actually go to Paris” or, “I wonder if my potter’s wheel still works?” or “Maybe I could write a blog?”…