Discombobulation!

Note:  This blog was penned in the middle of July.  It is now the middle of September.  One of the things I value about writing this blog is that it helps me capture moments in time.  It helps me to remember where I was and what was happening. I didn't publish it in July probably because I was in the thick of it.  I was truly discombobulated.  I have added a postscript at the end of this post that reflects how things have evolved..  Read on for more.

July 16, 2023

Discombobulation is the only way to describe the state I am in.  From the free dictionary-

A stunned or bewildered condition: befuddlement, bewilderedness, bewilderment, daze, fog, muddle, mystification, perplexity, puzzlement, stupefaction, stupor, ...

For a girl who likes to unpack the minute she arrives at a hotel room, who likes to have order and know where things are, moving is incredibly stressful.  It is a well-known fact that moving is one of the most stressful things we go through.  I should know, I’ve moved back and forth across the country twice. I’ve lived in NYC, Boston, San Francisco, London and Santiago, Chile and of course our beautiful Vermont. 

I’ve been to this rodeo.  This time, however, the stakes are a bit higher.  We are moving into an unfinished house.  My poor weary husband is working feverishly to finish building an apartment over the garage that will be part of our new house.  And that is where we will live for several months until the rest of the house is complete.  You heard it here.  Several months.  HA!  We’ll see.  My handyman, architect, energy nerd, devoted husband is not making any promises.  But he is working tirelessly to make sure we have somewhere to sleep after we close on our house sale in August. 

 

This is all complicated by the fact that I am not at full strength.  Far from it.  I am half deaf, my vision is wonky and my balance is terrible so traipsing up and down stairs with boxes is just not in the cards for me.  What I am doing is trying to make decisions and manage the complex process of moving us out of our farmhouse.  I have a giant spreadsheet with sheets for furniture, rugs and art.  We’ve already done a major purge and will likely do another one.  We’ve taken multiple trips to our local donation center with bags of clothing and linens and housewares and furniture.  Some furniture will be moved into our apartment.  This, mind you is a one room studio with a small kitchen and bathroom.  We will have one small closet and one bureau.  Talk about downsizing.  The rest of our furniture will be moved into our new barn or stored at the moving company’s facility.  We definitely need a safe, climate-controlled home for our piano for the interim. 

 

As I’ve shared with friends, my husband and I have been married for almost forty years and our secret is that we have always given each other a lot of space-  physical space, emotional space and mental space.  This means living on top of each other whilst trying to finish the house will be a true test.  I’m sure we’ll be fine.  We’ll just probably be pretty cranky a lot of the time.  I am definitely bringing my art supplies.  And my loyal Smooch of course.  She’s always good for kisses and laughs.  As I pack things up, I am thinking wistfully of the day that I will see them again.  It could be years.  But whenever that day comes, it will probably feel a bit like Christmas.  I hope that I’ll open boxes and be delighted to reunite with some of my treasured belongings.

 

For now, I am taking it one day at a time and embracing the motto-  Less is More!  

September 17, 2023

Postcript:  The "HA! We'll see." from the first paragraph proved prophetic.  Many of my friends who had come to help and had seen the disarray, the "gypsy encampment" that I had named our little trailer where I hoped to do my artwork, were raising their eyebrows, shaking their heads and wondering aloud how this would all turn out.  My wonderful sister-in-law who had come to help me pack actually gave me the nudge I needed.  She sat me down and in a very no-nonsense, serious tone said to me- "You have GOT to get out of here." 

I had been trying so hard to be a good sport, to put on my big girl pants and hunker down in my unfinished one room apartment with my gypsy encampment outdoors, to be the partner my husband was hoping I would be.  But that was not to be.  I have never done well living in a construction zone.  I need order and an environment that comforts me.  I need a measure of calm and beauty around me.  And I'm happy to report that I have found it.  I am renting a sweet little house at my summer camp.  It is small and very simple but it's lovely and I am happy here.  Smooch sits on the deck, surveying her camp.  She is, after all, a camp counselor during the summer.  We are both proud and happy to be watching over our beloved camp.  Michael comes for dinner since there really isn't a kitchen in the still unfinished apartment.  We discuss the project and the state of the world.  I try to be supportive and encouraging as there is a long way to go before we will finally move into our new house.  It appears that our strategy of "giving each other space" continues to be the secret.

  

 

 

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

Lately I’m having real trouble deciding when and how to participate in my life. I was once a girl who showed up for her friends, for their shows, for interesting events in the community.  I believe in showing up.  But lately, I’m just not feeling it.  I’ve missed so much over the last months. 

I heard an interview recently with Donna Murphy, a mature actress, who has had a fabulous career on Broadway.  She was talking to Seth Rudetsky on the Broadway Channel on SiriusXM about her career.  She really inspired me and got me thinking.   She talked about using a filter of “what do I have to give in this situation, at this moment”.  That feels like a powerful way to flip the script.  So often we view the world through the lens of what can I get out of this situation or this person or this experience.  If I do this, what will I get in return?  

This reminds me of an experiment I did shortly after leaving my business career in Boston.  I was feeling adrift and wanting to affect more, to connect more so I announced the The Great Gifting Experiment.  I offered to gift my time and ideas to friends and colleagues who needed help on a project.  Interestingly very few folks took me up on the offer.  It’s not that I didn’t have anything to offer.  I knew I did, but it was an offer and a model that people didn’t quite know how to participate in.  We’re so used to things being transactional. It’s one of the really wonderful concepts at Burning Man.  The gifting economy.  There is no currency other than generosity.
 
What would happen if we just think about what we have to give?  
 
I got some great advice from a dear friend on this topic recently.  I was fretting about going to an event that I had said I would attend. My friend’s advice was - you need to get really clear about why you are doing something.  Why are you going to that concert or that party or that lecture?  The answer doesn’t always come quickly.  We need to slow down and think hard about why we are drawn to do certain things.  
 
I worry when I opt out of more than I opt into.  Perhaps it’s a leftover from the pandemic and our months of being shut in at home.  Do we view our time differently now?  It could certainly be an outcome of two brain surgeries and moving out of our home.  All of it has taken a toll.   
 
One thing is clear to me and that is I have a deep well of things to give.  Maybe it’s as simple as a cheerful spirit or a friendly face.  Maybe it’s sharing a good laugh with a friend.  Maybe it’s sharing my perspective on business and art and friendship.

I’m going to try on this new model.  If you see me, know that I’ve decided that I have something to give in that moment in that place. Who knows what we might discover.  Cheers!