Shit got real around here yesterday when I almost got rid of my last Mike & Chris hoodie. It was in the go pile when a pang of conscience hit and I slipped my arms through the sleeves for one last time. There I stood in front of the mirror: ripped up jeans, tank top and the hoodie. All of the sudden I felt like my younger, more capable self. I kept the hoodie.
It’s funny how old things can stir up so much emotion.
Like a couple weeks ago when I was in the garage looking for the 10 year old original receipt for the sofa. Did you know manufacturers expect you to hang onto that stuff? Me either, but I guess it’s a thing. Now of course I don’t have that piece of paper, but thought I might have an old bank statement showing a slipcover purchase from 2008 (proof of ownership!). Holy hell and a half, next thing you know I’m lying on my back on the dirty garage floor, plethora of old bank statements in hand, spilling out all my questions to the universe:
- Why did I have to have a stroke?
- Why couldn’t I just be left alone to continue on my safe path of self-sufficiency?
- What’s going to happen to me?
- What HAS happened to me?
- Remember how successful I used to be? How peaceful? How much fun??
- Did you know the cable bill is due?
- How am I going to get back on track?
- Where is the track?
- WHAT is the track?
- I miss the old me! (not a question, but something I wailed nonetheless)
Who thinks that a trip into the garage is going to end up being a foray against the mind? Thanks for nothing, sofa man.
These days my prayer life consists of the following —-> HELP. HELP ME.
Based on the lack of response, I’m not sure I’m being heard. I mean, I think I am but maybe the answer is, ‘not yet’. I don’t know.
Ever been there?
Lissa Rankin, M.D. refers to it as ‘the sacred space’; the time/space between where one thing ends and a new thing begins. A place for grieving, contemplation, rest and being open to possibility. Now let it be said, Lissa Rankin’s on a whole other level than me on most things, but on this one thing I can totally relate. Except what about when you’re ready and the new thing is not presenting itself? What if you don’t know where to look for it? What about when you’re tossing yourself out there to possibility and possibility is just driving its car around (or maybe over) you like you’re not even there?
That is currently me, lying in the road/garage waiting for my next thing. Only, what if the sacred space never ends and I end up in a cardboard box on the curb? What if I sell all my shit on eBay and there’s not a single thing left except a leather jacket, pair of jeans, stack of white t-shirts and a pair of cut-offs (and the Mike & Chris hoodie). What if I go to get nostalgic about the receipts in the garage and end up having to make a dress out of them?
THEN WHAT?
<Speaking of dresses, how did I ever fit into this thing?>
I guess I’m sucking at the sacred space. It’s been six months of sacred spacing and I’m about sacred spaced out. I’m afraid to say that out loud because what if it prolongs my time here? Then again, the squeaky wheel gets the grease. Go on and grease me, God! I think I’m ready for it…just so long as it doesn’t involve going to an office and wearing a suit.
11 Comments
Oh you are most definitely not in that sacred space by yourself, I feel like I’m laying out there in the middle of the road with you. I feel like my life has been stuck in this state of limbo for the past few years and it can be hard to just spend the time reflecting and contemplating and resting when I want my life to look and feel different. I’m learning to practice patience…it’s hard though but I try to keep the thought that good things don’t need to be rushed into. Let’s hope that’s really true.
I pray that you find yourself out of the sacred space or at least a pathway illuminates to get you headed in the right direction.
Yes girl. Yes. I know what u mean—all of it! 🙂
Praying that u get answers soon–or at least a small token to find your track again.
Thank you, Erika!!! Prayer hands to the sky I’m hoping so, too. Looking, looking, looking.
The sacred space is really so much lovelier once you’ve already moved on to the next thing and are able to reflect on that time. I don’t think anyone thinks that nonsense is sacred when you’re getting through it. But you will.
I’ve been in some tough spots before and come out the other side with light burns, but still wished I would have been a little more contemplative and trusting that things would work out while I was in the storm. From that perspective, I think I get where she’s coming from regarding the sacred space: trust that things will work out, be patient, wait on God (or whatever you believe in), do your part without trying to force things along. It’s a balance. Now having said that I just want to say my pants are on fire and I’m looking for an extinguisher. Sacred space that!
I’m there with you girl, in my career I’m at an age that isn’t part of the “young” group anymore and not at the “mature” group. I feel like I’ve been floating in an island alone fur the past couple years trying to find where I fit again. I guess that’s sacred space. Gotta have faith we’ll both find an amazing next chapter! Hugs!
I can completely relate. It’s like being in junior high all over again, but this time moving onto high school is looking kinda grim. I don’t think it has to be, it’s just tough to redefine yourself. This middle ground is actually a battleground of the self. Wishing you every GOOD thing and clear direction.
I feel like I’ve been stuck in the “sacred space” for the last three years. Mostly grieving but not really being open to new possibilities. So, how does one transition out is now my big problem…
Courtney ~ Sartorial Sidelines
Are you grieving your old life prior to YEG? I’d be curious. I look at you and see someone who has so steadfastly rolled with the punches, staying open to new things and rising to the occasion. It helps me a lot to see it. I’m looking for an occasion (job, career move) to rise to! HALP!
Oh girl, I feel you. Then I think to myself, keep letting it get real in the sacred space or live a half life in oblivion, which would I prefer? Some days, it’s not an easy answer.
I’m ready to kiss the sacred space goodbye, but at the same time don’t want to force it. The house is on fire. Do I wait for the fire department or heave myself out the window? Both.