Young adulthood. Engagement announcements, ultrasounds, babies everywhere. Postgrad acceptance, graduation. Job hunt, endless cover letters, twiddling thumbs. First careers. Rat race. New cars; old cars that guzzle funds. New lovers--and the excitement of calling them 'lovers' in a new, fresh, out-of-college world. Moving, so much moving, so many boxes! 'Crashing' with parents that lasts longer than anyone wanted. Travel, some of which comes across as that 'last adventure before putting down real roots' sort. Renting and constant calls for repairs. House-hunting, house-buying, the headache of not having a landlord to call when all hell breaks loose. Marriage. In-laws.
I'm watching it all with a few congratulatory smiles, a bit of trepidation, a hefty dose of insecurity, and the fear that I myself have dammed and damned myself to stagnancy. I remind myself as frequently as I can that I am my own beaver--my own keystone--and that if there is a dam, I may remove it for a river when I choose; and if there is a dam, it does not necessarily mean that I am stagnant, with its negative connotations, but may be resting in a lake-state as I gather myself for the future. A lake is not the worst thing to be.
The river is a-flowin', flowin' and growin'.
The river is flowin' down to the sea.
Father, carry me, child I will always be.
Mother, carry me down to the sea.
I don't have anything important to say, I'm afraid. Things are happening. I hurt often but find reasons to smile and laugh, people to smile and laugh with, places where I am at peace for a time. It isn't quite so hard to be in my own company, although the fact that it still is to some degree breaks my heart a little; my ability to enjoy time in a solitary fashion was always one of the few things I consistently appreciated about myself.
My summers are often times of more exterior, active growth--personal growth through doing things, being active, going places. I think there is already a large part of me that is ready to turn inward to my more interior, introspective growth as I approach winter. I still feel very raw. I think the deciduous dormancy will do some good for my heart. Although the idea of Christmas Eve services, without my heartwood friend up by the pulpit with his violin...
Ah, yes. Still raw. Three months this weekend.
[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]