Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Process

I have started and deleted many posts in the past few weeks; never quite feeling proud of the outcome or the direction of my posts. My inability to center my thoughts, and in turn allow my mind to eloquently paint my emotions through flowing sentences seemed impossible and at times daunting. So in the end, I always deleted the attempt and walked away. Communication takes grace as well as time; it is a process.

The biggest thing I have needed to communicate lately is that Jared has moved out. My home is mine again. This was a difficult thing for me to write about because I didn't want to write slanderous, or ill words about him, yet I didn't want the world to think that I was jumping for joy either. This has been a long few weeks, but every day I wake up feeling stronger and stronger, repairing my environment and rebuilding my Self.

After he was moved out, I stood and stared blankly at my house that we had made a home. Oddly enough, I felt emotionless. No wave of sadness, elation, or loneliness. I just started adjusting. I started basic by rearranging rooms in the house, naturally starting with my spare bedroom that was once his. I moved my bikes as well as my snow skis back onto their respective wall mounts that had been installed last May, before Jared moved in. (If you missed that episode about what went into those things getting hung up, you can read about it here), I then neatly arranged my packs, climbing gear, tents, etc. into beautifully organized shelving units. A perfect reminder that I was graced with a love for the outdoors that I could always find peace in.

It was then time to clean. This became...obsessive. Obsessively therapeutic. I discovered that cleaning a man out of my home was easy, cleaning his dog out of my home proved to be a more difficult task. She was a clean dog for the most part, at times she smelled like most wet muddy trail dogs do, but her hair was everywhere. The carpets were the first to get cleaned thanks to her. The more I vacuumed and shampooed, the more my home was quickly losing it's sense of Marley and Jared. But it didn't stop at the carpets. I washed the tile, I scrubbed the kitchen (counters, stove, fridge, everything.), scrubbed the bathrooms down, I washed the walls in my house (No joke.), I cleaned for nearly two days. When all was said and done though, my gross 1980's apartment was immaculate.

But it still didn't feel like mine. I decided to dump the gross couches that I have been living with for years now, and bought some nicer couches off of a friend who was moving out East. I then went out and bought new wall art and an area rug. Buying these items was hard for me. I am never one to spend my money on material possessions for my home. "Home" for me was always a crash pad, never ever an investment. But for some reason, I needed this home feeling in this process. A realization that has left me more than confused. I have yet to figure it out. Ideas?

Just like my apartments ability to adjust, I too have adjusted. The beauty of eating my morning cereal in my underwear, dancing around my living room listening to 90's female rap artists (Missy, Lil Kim, Salt N Peppa, Eve, etc.) and showering with the bathroom door open again felt natural; these are things I haven't done since Jared moved in last July. He never stopped me from doing those things, I just stopped myself from doing them because he was there. As the days continue to go on, I begin to rediscover the simplest things about my home, and I cant physically hold back my smile.

It feels so good to smile again.

When Jared and I ended, I never stopped doing what I loved. I didn't stop seeing my friends, enjoying a good glass of red wine, or getting outside to play, but at the end of every day, I walked through the door of our home. I didn't realize how much that drained my energy. But now, after a long hike, or a day of climbing, or even just coming home from a day of work, I come home and I am welcomed by the energy that I have created for my Self. It is revitalizing.

Rebuilding is a process.
But I have learned that this process has been easy and so so refreshing; not tedious or exhausting whatsoever as I once anticipated (and dreaded).

So I move forward.
I sit back, and enjoy the process.

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