Going home

I am home. 

I struggled badly last week as we prepared to leave calgary. I had created a nice, familiar bubble there. I had lovely yoga community. I could walk to work. I had met some new friends. I was so enjoying the amenities of living downtown in a big city. I felt safe, and far away from fires and destruction. 

Every time I thought about leaving I cried. Tears that felt like loss, but were really fear of change, and sadness for having to leave some wonderful people. It scared me, I don’t cry a lot, but I reached out for support from my sober warriors and my therapist and I knew I would be ok.it is ok to miss people and places. It is ok to cry. Just keep taking the next step.

As much as I wanted to stay and avoid more change, we needed to go back. The kids desperately missed their friends. Work wanted me back In my usual office. Our house wasempty.

I considered not leaving for another month. But I took a deep breath and looked around and really saw the truth of our situation in calgary – I was living on a mattress in a beautiful condo that isn’t mine. This wasn’t a permanent solution. I hadn’t chosen to move. I had just ended up there.

At the same time, I had created all the supports I need to be secure and happy during a time of real distress and I realized that isn’t because of where I am, it’s because of me. I know what I need.

So we packed up all our stuff and drove half way to Edmonton. Spent a couple days with old friends checking out the science centre, playing Pokemon go (I’m level 13!) and seeing Chris Cornell in concert. It was mellow – he sings his Soundgarden and Audioslave songs, but in a acoustic format with a cello accompanying. It was lovely.

And then on Sunday we drove home. 

There is evidence of the big fire, but, more, there is bright green regrowth. This is the natural life cycle of the boreal forest.

And our house. After the initial shock of its cluttered messiness (all normal) I settled in. I was home. 

My son told me yesterday that Sunday night was the best sleep he had had since we left. My daughter told me she was not leaving her room for a day, she was surrounding herself with her favourite toys, etc. Hearing their happiness to be home filled my heart.

I feel like today is may 4 and the past few months were a dream. It’s odd, but not as disorienting as it sounds. I expect it will take a bit for that to fade.

Since May 3 there have been many times that I railed against the situation and cried why me? Why us? Life was nice before. Why did this have to happen?

There is no why. It just is. And accepting that is part of my liberation from suffering.

Like getting sober, or dealing with depression, or losing a loved one, or a flooded basement, or start bucks getting your order wrong, this was another opportunity to get to know myself better and to grow. 

Thank you all so much for your kind thoughts, prayers and love. Knowing you were with me gave me unending strength.

Stillness and peace

Anne