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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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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