Well, today was the day the last couple of weeks have all been building toward: moving day. I stayed up late last night packing up the last remaining items, and got up early to pack my car, throw out the garbage, and take care of last minute details. I was surprised at how unemotional I was when I woke up this morning. I just had stuff to do, so I got up and got to it.
I’ve spent the past two and half weeks packing up my apartment, interspersed with visiting friends, spending time with family, reading and writing. Early on, as I wrote about here, my mornings began with a mild wave of anxiety as soon as I realized I was awake – what did I DO? I had to calm down my racing mind, remind myself I was going to be fine, that I wanted this. It usually passed quickly enough.
There was none of that this morning. Just stuff to do. It’s been slowly getting better over time. I’ve been making a point to spend time in silent meditation first thing each morning, which has been immensely helpful in slowing down my racing mind, with all its concerns for past folly and future doom, and allowing me to focus on right now. Meditation is a bit like working out – the hardest part is getting started. Once you do, though, you – certainly I – quickly become attached to the habit. You (I) start to see how just how out of control your (my) mind was and you crave the mental and emotional peace, calm and quiet that meditation creates.
On Sunday morning, I guess I felt a bit of that anxiety returning. I got up to meditate and immediately began weeping. I can’t really say why, exactly. It’s not that I felt sad…exhausted, I think. Exhausted from carrying around all the burdens created by my mind – all the “you can’t”‘s and “you should”‘s and “you have to”‘s. But, there was an element of mourning in it, too. Like I was mourning the loss of some thing – except not a thing, more like mental state or belief, some sort of emotional crutch – that used to provide some measure of comfort or security, but which I’d outgrown. It was intense, though not to the point of convulsion, and lasted only a few minutes. Afterward, I was completely calm and was able to meditate normally. It was very cathartic, very much a release.
Perhaps that’s why I was so unemotional today. Any pent up angst or anxiety I had about this move passed through me on Sunday. After that, it was just a matter of getting it over with so I could get on with what comes next.
That’s it, folks – I’m officially homeless 🙂 I mean, not sleeping-on-the-street homeless, and I’m using a family member’s address for my mail and such, but homeless all the same. And I’m perfectly at peace with this.
TL;DR: Janet’s homeless.
