When the winds of change blow, some people build walls.
Others build windmills.
~ Chinese Proverb
Peace was the word I chose for myself for 2017. It’s almost the end of January and in a way, I think this has probably been the perfect choice for a number of reasons.
As I sit here, typing, watching my fingers tapping the keys in rhythmic motion, almost unconsciously since I know the placement of the letters fairly well now, I pause. There’s a sense of comfort in the way I blog or the way I write. I rarely have to think too hard about how the words come together or how the thoughts shape themselves into sentences and paragraphs. The best I can describe it is the way a river flows, without pause, meandering here and there, yet following a charted course of sorts.
This comfort is necessary for writers. We need to find that groove, that synchrony between the heart and the head. For each one of us, the method is different but there is a method.
I always write without thinking too hard but edit with every switch turned on in my brain. It’s why I take my time to write posts. There’s a subtle sense of order in the process that is difficult to capture in words.
And I figure this is what I love: Comfort. Like anyone, I enjoy my space, my cocoon of warmth that I’ve built for myself both offline and online. I’m tentative about letting people into this space which has earned me the title of being snobbish or stand-offish but the truth is, I’m very wary in my relationships.
Winds of change are always difficult to accept, for anyone. Stepping out of the comfort zone takes courage and also the incredible support of those you love, to make it possible.
And the winds,they are a-blowing in my direction again. In less than 3 weeks, we will be moving into a place we can call our own. It feels very gratifying and yet very surreal too. 15 years of marriage, 3 cities and 9 houses have we moved together before this could happen.
A part of me is still recovering from the magnitude of this reality while the other excited me is whispering ‘It’s almost here. Can you feel it?’
And I can. Trust me, it’s hard not to feel that gush of joy or that sense of excitement when it’s something as novel as a new home. The last month and a half has been a bit of a frenzied blur for us. Almost every day was spent in discussing decor and design. From tiles to light fixtures, laminates to Burma wood, wallpaper to curtain designs, paint hues to shades of veneer, I can write a thesis.
That sense of seeing it all come together, from vision to execution almost day by day is an experience worth all the exertion. The stress has taken its toll, no doubt, but the peace it’s left behind is unparalleled.
And yet, there’s a sense of being uprooted, from this space I’ve been living in for the last 5 years.
I’ve made friends, the kind who will go out of their way to help me and my family. I’ve made connections of a deeply spiritual kind that I will miss dearly. And all of this happened after I turned 30, an age when making friendships doesn’t come easily to most people.
So, now this 38-year-old inside is wondering what she will do in a new place, with new faces, new people. Will she find it in her to go out and make those connections again? Or will she stay in a new cocoon? Will she dream anew or settle for the dreams she already has?
Will she build walls or will she build windmills? I suppose only Time will tell.
Until then, I look forward to savouring these moments in limbo: that space between an old home and a new one, where friendships endure everything from separation to long periods of silence and emerge stronger, come what may.
Through it all, the one thing I know will not change too much is the connection I’ve made through my words. The readers here, on my blog, will remain. They have seen me through many months of ups and downs, cheered my triumphs and empathised with my moments of anger and outrage.
For that, I am grateful. At least, here on the blog, the winds of change will not blow too fiercely. I shall take comfort in that knowledge always.