Wiping the Gunk Away: A 10 year reflection of being single
Have you ever felt the need to wipe away the energies of the day? I’ve felt it a lot lately. And sometimes, like today, it is a reason for me to take a shower at 3am and eventually go back to sleep instead of waiting and starting my day.
What do I mean by “energies of the day?” The thoughts that won’t go away. The feelings from listening to others or hearing the news or reading the reactions to any of the above. I want to clear the brain and reset (and actually sleep). Today, I find the need to write first.
One of my reflections lately has been about my birthday. The last post came before my birthday. Now that the odometer has officially flipped over, I am almost two weeks into a new decade. A friend ahead of me in the same year reassured me that it would be ok and there wouldn’t be zombies after me, or anything like that.
The other reason I have thought a lot about this birthday is because as an adult it has always been my effort to celebrate, especially for decade birthdays. Ten years ago I was still married. My (ex) husband had a decade birthday first and made a fuss about celebrating. When my turn came around – nothing. Our anniversary happened to be in October a couple of weeks later. My ex not only had to work, he didn’t offer to make plans over a different weekend, which is what we previously had done. The marriage, at least from my point of view, was rocky for many reasons. After the anniversary discussion I decided that I was finished. Instead of celebrating a relationship, I went apartment hunting, happy, at least, that I’d be returning to Kalamazoo. By the end of October I had moved (with the cat) and (re)started single life.
I moved several times since first returning to Kalamazoo. Some moves I chose to do while others I had to. For example, when the landlady died and the family wanted to make sure the house could be included as part of the estate. I had time, as long as I hurried up.
Moving this year is not something I expected. I actually have enjoyed living in a studio and made it feel cozy. I guess it had been more cramped than I realized, though. When the opportunity to move upstairs came along, I jumped. I could’ve moved to a bigger studio, too. I was only interested in the upstairs apartment. So for the last two weeks of September, I figured out where things generally would go and moved (with some help) upstairs to an apartment with three or four times the space. It seemed “right sized” – not as big as when I rented entire houses, and still bigger than the studio.
What I have noticed is that there is a different feeling when you have the space to move around. I will still be downsizing things. I believe my brain is also trying to download things. Maybe things that I didn’t completely have the room to put it in. Or the words to express. Or lost when in places too big. So, here I am at 4 in the morning, reflecting. I feel cleaner from writing as much as from showering. Just like that first move to the single life, this feels like a transition, too. Like there is more happening than the fact of organizing from a move. It’s probably been happening, and I am at a point where things slowed down enough (I mean, it IS 4am!) that I can acknowledge this change.
I have to say that I am excited. I also want to note that the last 10 years, even the parts more recently, seem like a long time ago (yes, in a galaxy far away, too). It’s experience, yet right now and whatever is coming up is what seems exciting and I don’t even know what that is. Have you had any similar experience?
Thanks for reading!