in between

I am in between. It takes many months to sort through the details of my mother’s leaving. There are days when creativity eludes me but I know it will return, when the tasks before me are complete. I allow myself to surrender to what must be done and there is a relief, a comfort in that. In letting go there is an easing, a pressure that lifts. I allow myself to put one foot in front of the other and do what needs to be done.

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I focus on house cleaning and clearing, bill sorting and settling. I appoint an estate agent and go through the process of selling my mother’s little house. The days are busy with detail and I am grateful for the focus.

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I put my creative energy to other uses. I am content with the knowledge that this is my final gift to my mother, finalising the details of the last days of her life.

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There is little time to play with paint or photograph, but the call of the woods and hills around my home remains constant. They are snow-covered on this mid-winter day that I walk through them, and the transformed landscape brings a deep and welcome comfort.

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I feel able to take my camera on this day’s walk for, as always, the deep snow brings the outside world to a standstill. I am given a small respite and I breathe. I take some time to play after all, playing with the multiple exposures that perfectly mirror the moods of my life.

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I have lived these past long months in limbo, held between past and future. But on this day of in between, when normal routine has been suspended, I sense a shift. I am able, now, to see that once the details are finalised, there will be change. Good change. Lasting change. I am likely to move on, move house, move location. My centre of gravity will shift. I will be ready.

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I do not see the details, not yet, but I do welcome the sense of curiosity that I sense coming toward me. I will wait for it to arrive, as I have learned enough to know that in doing so I will move forward on a stronger foundation. Ah, it feels good to sense forward movement again. And with it, a return to the creativity that nourishes and feeds my inner self and supports my expression of who I am into the world.

I write this many months after I take this walk, as it takes longer than I expect to be able to return to the routine of writing. There has indeed been the change that I sensed on this day – deep change, on many levels – and much to write about as I finally feel ready to do so.

 

 

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