Lost & Found
The shadowy in-betweens
The words have been scarce these past few months. Well, that’s not strictly true. They have been rattling around inside my mind, twirling and somersaulting, suggesting ideas for posts and podcasts and books and workshops, as they so often do. It is time that I have been scarce on really. The words are always there, humming in the background, with no way to pour out during some seasons of life for one reason or another.
I have been finding my feet in a new job amid household renovations, two teenagers about to go on study leave as they prepare for big exams and the myriad other things that make up our days - dog walks, groceries, dental appointments, cooking, gardening, birthdays, long runs and laundry…always the bloody laundry!
There have been so few chunks of proper time to sit with the words swirling about in my head, to process them, never-mind allow them to flow out onto the page, and it has left me feeling a little out of sorts…a little bit lost if truth be told. For the longest time, it has been words that have been my sanctuary, the place I have gone to when I have needed to make sense of the world, to express myself, to write myself into being. My identity so intrinsically tied up within them.
On the other side of this I have found myself expanding in all kinds of new ways as I grow into my new role as a domiciliary support worker caring for people with dementia on a one-to-one basis. I think I knew when I applied for the post that I would be a good candidate and that I had much to offer within the caring industries and I have already found myself to be capable and adaptable in a short space of time. What I wasn’t prepared for was how much joy this work would bring to me. How it would help me to find parts of myself once again.
Isn’t this the age-old irony of being human? That we so often find ourselves existing within opposites. That in the gap of juxtaposed extremes, there is a small sliver of something magic to be discovered.
Here I find myself, perimenopausal and on some weeks I feel like it is kicking my ass into oblivion. I find myself so full of rage and so lacking in confidence and with zero tolerance for anyone’s shenanigans that the idea of running away to live alone in a candlelit cave surrounded by delicious food and books is extremely appealing. At times I feel so done with the caring responsibilities that have accompanied my mothering years, the endless lists and meals and planning and exhaustion that is powered by a love so fierce that I feel guilty for at times wishing they would all just give my head peace for a week or two. And yet, alongside that, I have stepped into another caring role that is bringing so much challenge and growth and satisfaction to my life. I am sure psychoanalysts would have a field day with me…something missing in childhood that has led me to this place of needing to look after others or something along those lines. Who knows.
What I do know, is that right now I am both lost and found.
Angry and Joyful.
Afraid and Fearless.
Anxious and Calm.
Bored and Fulfilled.
Light and Dark.
At both an Ending and a Beginning.
It is a balancing act this call to life that’s for sure. I don’t know how it is possible to be all of this at once - and yet, here I am. Somewhere in among it all there are little sweet spots, little slivers of clarity and comprehension that I can exist within all the opposing realities. That they are an interaction and when they collide they are a place of possibility. A reminder of what it is to be human. For every thought and feeling, every emotion or experience, there is an equal and an opposite.
What a joyful thing to get to travel through it all. Messy as it is!
The highs. The lows. All the shiny in-betwixt places.
To be both lost and found. To dwell in the magical, shadowy in-betweens.
Thank you for reading,
Wildly
Kelly x