Transition

I can tell that I am in a middle of a transition.
This is a good thing, but it is also really difficult.
The feelings that are difficult are also a gift, because it is very real and very alive, which is something I strive to feel in each day of my life.

What what I am transitioning through? I think everything. I'm at that phase in my life where I am accepting my adulthood and coming to terms with the fact that the dreams I chased when I was young and eager are not going to happen. And more importantly, being ok with that. Accepting what I am given and my limitations physically and emotionally. Trying to find what works for me, and what I can give to the world and to those around me. I know that I am not enough to change the world, but someone who can maybe add a little divet in it.

Creatively, I am trying to figure out what I want to do, and how I want to do it. In reading that Twyla Tharp book, she talks about how she sacrificed everything in her life in order to dedicate it all to dance, and now she is one of the most respected and well-known choreographers of her time. But am I willing to do that anymore? No. My feelings have changed over the years--I lost my father and a lot of my mother, and that is in itself a huge challenge. I have a wonderful husband who I want to experience the world with. I have amazing friends, which is more of a payoff than having my name in a marquis. I want to enjoy my meals and wine and see how big the world is outside of me. Is that giving up my dream? I don't think so. Again, I see this as acceptance of who I am and of growing up, but I am still a creative person, so I am transitioning into finding how I can focus more on this in my daily life, or even future career.

Another transition I am having is finding my place in my family. Currently, the majority of my family is struggling. Struggling with sickness, happiness, the burden of everyday life and of dealing with the passing of other's lives. My mother and I have talked a lot about the reversal of our roles--she's become the child and my brother and I more of the parents. It is so hard to see her struggle, but I cannot afford to give up my happiness or experiences, so I have to keep a distance. My grandmother is still ill and they are looking for a buyer of her house. As my amazing acupuncturist friend reminded me the other day, I have no doubt that one day my Mom will leave me with a monsterous piece of property that I will have to do something with, so right now, it can't be my responsibility to deal with memaw's property. In that same vein, I can only live for myself. I can't fix anyone else's problems, only my own, and often I feel pressured to fix everyone's problems. So I have to turn a blind eye and just let others deal with their own pain and struggles. Then there is the guilt--how can I leave my family to struggle so much? How can I be so cold to it? But I feel myself getting stronger and stronger each day--if I were to take on that or anyone else's burden, I would crumble and lose it all. I just cannot afford that, or doing that to Fuzzy. That is currently the hardest thing I am going through, but how it has to be.

The other day, I found myself responding to something Fuzzy said with "What does it matter, in 100 years, we'll all be dead and no one will care." It shocked me, too, but that thought is kind of liberating when you think of it. When you remove all pressure that we put on ourselves and get rid of the drama and crap, think of how limitless your possibilities become! This life we have is a gift, so what are we waiting for? What are we afraid of? So often we hold back in saying what we feel, standing up for ourselves, or doing what we want to do--usually out of fear or failure, rejection or humiliation. My brother, who has great desires to make a difference in the world, even said recently that if you think too much about all the problems in the world, you can get overwhelmed and to crippled to do anything, so you just have to keep moving forward and doing what you can.

What is the point of just coasting through each day and going through the motions, when you could take a few risks here and there, and start to make things happen in your life. I have gotten much better about this in my life. Losing Dad made me see things in so many different ways. He was middle aged at 26, so who is to say how many years I have left in front of me? So therefore, I try to do things he never got to do or would be proud to know I did. Life is too short to not live it.

Therapy, books, friends, acupuncture--these are all things that are helping me with this transition, and it is exhausting, but I feel more self-aware and enlightened than ever before. My brain is a big cluster of confusion and emotion and random thoughts, but I know that this transition is a good one. I can't wait to see how I continue to thrive and grow as the years unfold before me.

The key is just to live for myself and be unapologetic for it.