Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Deconstructing The Thing

Robb and I went out last Friday and had a good time connecting...sometimes it's just so hard to settle in and really talk about things that are hard. We were sitting in a Chinese restaurant and I was crying and thinking how absurd it was that I was sitting in a Chinese restaurant and crying.

We were talking about my discontent...my chronic ambition...my whatever it is that makes me feel that we aren't giving our kids what I want to give them. I think that Robb was a little surprised by the fact that I feel this way and he tried to draw me out on what it is that I feel we are missing. I came up with this...


"You mean, like we stay in one place for the rest of our lives?" He asked.

I don't know exactly.

Except that anytime the mention of Ithaca or our house there comes up, I cry. Like the loss of a dearest loved one. Like a breakup from someone you just loved so much, but it couldn't work out. I told Robb that it was the first place we'd lived that I was happy. We said that it was going to be our "forever home" and that we were going to stay there forever. I had worked through the urge to leave after two years; I had put my absolute heart and soul into fixing up the house. I planted perenials, planning every year for new flowers and trees and such. I dreamed great dreams. I loved that home with complete abandon. I never planned to leave it. And more than just the house, I felt I belonged in the community. I alternated between being amusedly annoyed by the provincial mindset of the people, and being relieved by the simplicity of it all. I genuinely loved the town like you love a family with all it's quirks. And then we moved...again.

But there was more to it than all that...All this week I have asked myself what it was about living there that I have not been able to get over. I mean, sure it's always hard to move, but I haven't been able to move ON and that is a problem. I'm pretty sure other people don't mourn the loss of their town. What I feel can't be quite right.

My thoughts have been turbulent this week. I am in a room interacting with family and friends, but underneath, I am thinking....thinking...thinking....trying to work out this puzzle in my head....

I've cleaned out closets, organized the basket of school papers, sorted through Charleigh's clothes, cleaned my closet, organized the garage...but I still feel this profound disorder in my soul. I rearranged the knick-knacks in the living room, not because I had time, but because I was compelled to make it better....

I am working at deconstructing the thing. I'm getting close, and as usual, the root of the matter is some place I have been ignoring for a long time. I can see the shape of it coming into focus and honestly, I'd like to turn around and run in the opposite direction for as long and as hard as I possible can.

I'm sorry to be so cryptic, but I'm exhausted and these thoughts need more energy than I have to hatch properly.

The wind is howling and it is pouring a miserably chilly rain...not so cold as to actually decisively freeze, just cold enough to be unfocussed and grouchy. It so perfectly matches my mood, I'm actually grateful for it.


Darla said...

i know this "thing" you're speaking of.... i'm with you sister... sitting with you...

courtney said...

...and you know I know since you and I have had more than a few talks about it all. Sometimes I think it's just the structure of knowing you belong somewhere and the belief that in normal dealings, no one is going to take it from you. Sometimes, I think it's just the Irish in us that needs a piece of dirt for us to put our tubers. :)

akr said...

It's funny...I have the tendency to be a professional runner too...I would rather keep busy and not analyze but I ended up in tears on a date with my husband this week too and I understand...the one thing I think of is the concept that God has placed eternity in our hearts.

ness said...

Wow...my cookie setting is screwed up and often when I check my blog, it says I have 0 comments. But I clicked on it just in case, and here you all were. I just felt like I got a hug. Thanks girls.

Elizabeth said...

I HATE sunny days when I'm grumpy...the worse the weather-the better!

I've moved around a lot too (obviously less then you so far)...and the thing that is hard for me is not having a group of people to belong to...no one out there who says...she belongs to us-and we take care of our own.

Anonymous said...

I am in the deconstruction mode too. Last night a few little things that wouldn't bother most people paralyzed me. They somehow fit in with all the other things I've been working through and now I need to get to the bottom of everything. I feel like I just dumped a 10,000 piece puzzle on the floor and now I need to figure out how to put it all together. I'm glad I'm not the only one.

klasieprof said...

SOmetimes..its just an attitude change....I lived by this song for a while, moving 9 times in 4 years.

You're my castle, you're my cabin
and my instant pleasure dome.
I need you in my house
cuz you're my home,..
you're my home.

YOU'RE MY HOME (Billy Joel)

When you look into my eyes
and you see the crazy gypsy in my soul
it always comes as a surprise
when I feel my withered roots begin to grow.

Well I never had a place
that I could call my very own
but that's all right my love
cuz you're my home.

When you touch my weary head
and you tell me everything will be all right.
You say use my body for your bed
and my love will keep you warm throughout the night.

Well I'll never be a stranger
and I'll never be alone
wherever we're together
that's my home.

Home could be the Pennsylvania turnpike
Indiana's early morning dew
high up in the hills of California
home is just another word for you.

Well I never had a place that I could call my very own
but that's all right my love
cuz you're my home.

If I travel all my life
and I never get stop and settle down
long as I have you by my side
there's a roof above and good walls all around.
You're my castle, you're my cabin
and my instant pleasure dome.
I need you in my house
cuz you're my home,..
you're my home.

courtney said...

I've been reading a book on the mothers of former presidents and how they pulled their families through hell and high water and rarely said a word about their personal discomforts and it enabled their children to lead the country through all kinds of hardships. Point being that it has been helping me change perspectives on who's life I'm trying to make comfortable. I could complain that I'm not very happy with our present situation and I'm definately not being taken care of but it's just not going to help....maybe I'm on the other end of deconstructing things? Maybe Dora's gonna be a fantastic president? lol I miss being comfortable, being able to get through a day without feeling like I've done battle with an impossible dragon, but this is going to come in handy somewhere, I think. maybe it's not about putting roots down in dirt....maybe I shouold be hydroponic

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