How am I not writing during this time in my life, where change is seeping into every little safe corner I’ve ever known? Writing is sanity for me, and it always has been. Whenever something was difficult, I didn’t need to wait until I had access to a keyboard; I ripped out an old diary and began scribbling even the most mundane thoughts and bringing them to life.
When I look back on those scribblings, sometimes I’m brought to tears. I love the connection I have to my old self. It’s so important to document even the happy times, not simply in Instagram updates or Facebook shares, but in words.
I pulled into my driveway and saw a sales sign in my front yard. The home I’ve lived in for the past seven years now has people walking through it, fancying themselves in it. The little window I like to sit in our kitchen and eat yogurt and talk to my boyfriend might have someone else sitting in it soon. The den where I stretch into Warrior 3, or collapse into child’s pose might someday have someone else doing the same; or worse, not doing anything to that open space I like to pretend is my own personal fitness studio.
The pool that I like to sit on the front step and stare up at this very stately tree, will have someone else sitting in it. They might not look up at that tree and pretend the leaves are waving at them. I almost wanted to write my tree, because it has been mine, hasn’t it?
I understand attachment to things and possessions is actually unhealthy. It’s as if I could run around that entire home claiming it like a cat rubs against its owner. I would do it if I could. And although I know change is good, I can’t help feeling horrible as I walk through my newly sterile home. We are proclaimed minimalists; but our home has taken on a new kind of lifeless feel to it, as if no one is giving it any happiness anymore. A home isn’t a person, but it sure feels that way lately. I feel like I could wrap my arms around the walls and say, “Thank you.”
The thing is I know I could get that feeling again, and that it’s going to be okay.