Metamorphosis

We have moved, Thor and I. It's not a surprise. We've been calling Salem home for two months now. What is a little surprising is how quickly our worlds have both changed. Thor prefers the indoors now. He bit me so hard I had to go to Urgent Care when I last tried to take him to the park. It's more busy and crowded here. He has the same amount of energy, still purrs when I feed him or cuddle him, but part of him that dared to venture beyond the four walls of his territory has been quieted.I just came home from my last counseling appointment in Newberg. I left part of my heart there. The drive coming home was gorgeous, spring making her fresh pallet felt against the warm blue sky. Yet I feel empty.
I miss my community, although I have been watching it slip from me for about a year now. I still miss the Quaker ability to be with people in their life stage. I had never experienced unconditional acceptance like I did with that very special group of people, and I miss it. I am trying to learn to give that gift to myself.
I miss Jacob. We didn't date for very long, but it was one of the more healing experiences I have had in a relationship. You will know it when someone is good to you like that. Things you didn't know you knew how to feel come to you. Compassion and kindness are still the two biggest turn ons in my universe.
And, in a way, I miss the carefree me. The job I have now is good for me because it's forcing me to be more responsible. It's forcing me to grow and to live up to my potential. And it's showing me that I really do have what it takes to make it in the adult world. But I miss singing and dancing in the kitchen, making dirty jokes, and causing mayhem at work. Putting away childish things is difficult for me, but good.
The experience is teaching me a few things. One is advise Nicole Worthington gave me before I left Whole Foods. She told me not to be too hard on myself, that moving and switching jobs were some of the most stressful events a human being could go through. So while I maintain my high expectations of myself, I am letting it be ok when I am sad, have nightmares, or just don't want to be around anyone. I let myself have an extra coffee on days when I wake up more tired than I went to sleep because of the nightmares. I allow myself to get B's in my classes if I really put an honest effort into it. I am not trying to change everything all at once.
Another is to give myself time to figure out who my people are and where my tribe is. I have one friend at work whom I pretty much connected with instantly. I had a good moment with another young professional as we drank coffee at Gov's Cup. I joined a CSA and have plans to start volunteering. But I had a foolish expectation that I would go right back to the same people and friends when I moved home. The journey changed me, so much so that I am not really sure of these new wings, or where they are supposed to take me. So not knowing who my tribe is cannot be blamed on anyone. It just is.
Finally, I am learning that I really do want a husband. I have had too many lovers, not enough love. My last boyfriend was everything and more that I could have ever wanted in a boyfriend, but he wasn't really ready to be a husband. I want to be husbanded, to be cared for, to be a partner with, and to fight with (and still remain together) another human soul. I want to build a lifetime of memories with someone so different and yet so much like me. I want to raise kids together, take vacations together, eat dinner together, and have the flu together. And having that desire isn't a bad thing. But I definitely don't want to be with people who aren't even interested in that anymore. So I guess my standards have changed for men even as I grieve for the relationship that was probably the best in recent memory.
Going through change isn't bad. And it's pretty much constant. Ryan says, "Change is mandatory. Growth is optional. Choose wisely." I say, "Keep moving forward." All of life is a dance, and the movement is what makes it so interesting. There will always be the thing you could have done or the decision you should have made, but dwelling on those things does nothing to make today beautiful. And today is beautiful. Thor is here, my home is better than anything I could dream of being in, and I live in the town I love. Those are all reasons to rejoice even as I struggle with this metamorphosis.