Life has been quite overwhelming lately. Physically, emotionally and mentally overwhelming. Each day I go from feeling content for a nanosecond to feeling a rush of grief, followed by moments of sadness alternating with a push to keep moving. One minute I'm functioning, completing what needs to be done, but within minutes I'm back to feeling lost. Another minute I'm entertaining my creative side only to be left feeling guilty for looking for happiness amongst the muck. It sounds crazy, and it feels like it too. I feel everything, but yet I don't know what to feel.
And this would be the perfect time for me to write, but I can't seem to find the time to do it. I know that I should make time for my morning pages, but it's hard when everything I own is split up between three different residences. Sure the laptop is at one house, but the power cord is at another and which bag (in which house) did I put my journals in? Not to mention working full time (with an exhausting commute to boot), and trying to move all the contents of three houses into one while working on renovating the house that I'm attempting to move into. Did I mention that I also have twin boys? Oh & there's that photography business I've launched.
But I'm sure that someday soon things will fall into place. The renovation project will be an ongoing thing, and part of me is fairly excited about it. It's bittersweet though, knowing that everything I ever knew my grandmother's house to be is slowly going to be replaced with my own touch, my own visions. No matter what physical changes I make to that house, however, the positive energy of the many generations before me, back to my great great great grandparents who built the home, will never fade away.
I'm unsure though, when the sting from so much loss in such a short period of time will subside. One can keep themselves busy & try to continue on, but things will never be the same and that's something that busy can't cover up.