finding the way back
Yesterday, I was happily finishing up a few decor and design articles for HD and getting ready to head out with theater tickets and had another one of those moments where I was amazed, from the point of view of my past self, that this was my life. Earning a living writing, creating, getting to foster experiences and obsessions in a way I was not in a position to do for many years (due to working at a draining job, low pay, lack of time and energy.) About a decade ago, I would have told you I was very happy, but the cracks were beginning to form in the mirror. There were times, especially in the last 7 years or so I looked around and wondered if there was only tragedy left to experience--more losses--and for sure there were and still are, but also good things along with the bad.
I was so settled in my habits and routines I couldn't feel how cold the water had grown until I was shivering. Its the curse of someone who usually tries to put a positive spin on everything. looking at challenges with "at least it's not THAT." A glass half full/ half empty attitude that occasionally allowed me to go on for years in very un-ideal situations just because I could always imagine something worse as an alternative.
Some people occasionally talk about how finding yourself is maybe more finding a way back to yourself. Before the world took a bite out of you or forced you into shapes that weren't really for you. I've experienced this often, a finding a way back to things after years. In my early 40s, I found again my love of clothes and fashion that I had ignored through the past two decades before. Or, more recently, how I've been enjoying our slightly compulsive theater going habit of late since this was one of the reasons I moved to a lively city, even when I wasn't really able to take advantage of it for money or lack of time and energy. Other things I've found along the way were new, like developing an interest in art when I was around 30 I hadn't really considered as a path for me. Or discovering actually, yes, sometimes I like cooking and its not the bother I thought it was that would just take me away from other things. Or the years I sold vintage and developing a love of thrifting.
In some ways the design writing that I've been doing seems like a natural extension of my early and mid-20s self who spent countless hours in front of HGTV shows planning a dream home or apartment when I was still living with my parents. The magazines I clipped and tore images from, pasting them into a sketchbook that was later replaced by Pinterest and now defunct Polyvore boards. That this job I do now and someone miraculously pays me for is an extension of those obsessions that I nurtured a little, but didn't really cultivate for many years beyond just decorating my own space.
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