Mapping the Course to a New Life

Behind the Wheel - altered book spread

Behind the Wheel - altered book spread

Two months on and I’m still getting organised in my new home.  Mixed with the exhaustion of lugging cartons from one place to another, unpacking, and making my new home an appealing place to ‘be’, is a degree of impatience to be settled, to well and truly ‘be-long’.

The Studio, an initial priority, has already undergone rearranging.  About the same size in area as the old one, but a different shape and with different placement of doors and windows, the workspace felt cramped and claustrophobic.  Now, there is a natural walk-through that encourages rather than inhibits a flow of thought and activity.  I’m hoping it will also encourage the muse.

I’m yet to find out. There are still boxes to unpack, supplies to sort and, works in progress to re-find and complete.  It’s a time of discovery, of both objects and of what works for me.  It’s a time of frustration while excitement sits on the shelf preparing to leap onto my back, once my new living and working space is truly sorted.

Christmas is rushing towards me like an Olympic Luge sled.  As always, I’ve left things to the last moment, despite promises made to myself twelve months ago. That, at least, has not changed.  The holiday season will be different, too, this year, the logistics of travel, and distance from my children and grandchildren, an obstacle to be accepted as a challenge and overcome with organisation – something which has never been my forte when it comes to my personal life.

With all the changes taking place, I’m making the map as I go.  A novice cartographer, I’m using the eraser regularly!  It adds to the sense of adventure, not to mention frustration.  Character building, some might say, and I have no doubt I will be stronger and more able, more familiar with Change, once I’ve mapped my own personal course.  Friends and family can advise and suggest, but in the end it is I that must travel the journey, most of the time alone. Rather than wait until every guidepost is labelled, every rest-stop, and each speed hump is duly noted, I’m proceeding with a measure of caution.

Approaching newly-discovered crests and pockets of mist, my grip tightens and my knuckles whiten on the steering wheel.  There’s a lot of talking to myself!  There is also great satisfaction at having embarked on this particular journey, of being behind the wheel on the way to an unknown destination.

Regularly pausing a while to drink in the scenery, to marvel at the wheeling and excited chatting of flocks of Corellas, or watch the ease with which ducks propel themselves into flight from the dam is more refreshing than a glass of homemade lemonade on a boiler of a day.   No regrets.

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