Hi. Hope you are all awesome. Lets get to it, shall we? As I have been thinking enthusiastically about blogging I have pictured writing the first series of blogs in perfect chronological order. Then I quickly got swimmy headed (and nauseous) as I wasn't sure where to begin. Where is the perfect place to start? What is the perfect lead into what I want to blog to you about? How will I know what to say next and then after that and after that? Then I took a step back (and a deep breath) and realized that there is no perfect place to start. I'll know what to say next because it's what will come out of my head and onto this screen at that moment and then the next.
Life isn't perfect. Its out of order. Sometimes messy. Sometimes you hit the nail on the head and other times you smash your finger. I'm learning life has such a different appearance when you let go of chasing perfection (spoiler alert: perfect doesn't exist). A life of imperfection is something I will spend a lot of time talking about over the coming weeks. Tonight ain't one of those nights :)
Last week, after quarantining myself in my apartment for several days after being sick I finally got out (no cooties, I wasn't contagious) and went shopping with my wonderful niece. It was a three-fer. Spent time with her, got her out of her apartment too, and did alittle shopping at the same time. After all, you need a partner in crime when you shop don't you? I have a pretty long list of things I have been needing to buy for my apartment basically since I moved in on May 2, 2014. Little finishing stuff like kitchen rugs (finally found one I really liked), anti slip mats for underneath ones in the bedroom and the closet etc etc. They have been sliding around and getting on my nerves for four plus years (ridiculous 🙄).
Let me back track just a minute to give you context for the upcoming Epiphany I had the other night while putting away my loot from the store. I love San Francisco. I love my apartment. I love all three of my jobs. I love the neighborhood I live in (for most at first blush, you'd freak. It's in the Tenderloin. One of those "don't judge a book by its cover" places, but that's another blog for another time LOL). I love my life and I'm grateful for everything in it good or bad, happy or sad. There has been one thing, however I haven't been able to wrap my head around and fully understand until last week.
Like everyone else, even in a studio apartment, its easy to collect things you don't need or that don't actually serve you. I buy very little, but habits are sometimes hard to keep broken. Looking around on any given day I am also reminded about what I brought with me from South Carolina when I moved to San Francisco. Some things have ghosts attached from my past life (metaphorical, not real don't worry 👻 LOL).
As part of the what seems like a lifelong and ongoing purging process, a few weeks ago (it had been on my " To Do" list for months if not at least a year) I finally got the push I needed from watching Marie Kondo's first season on Netflix "Tidy Up". Reading (part of) her book was a much different experience than watching an episode. It clicked watching it vs reading it. Anyway, I wanted to tweak her advise of how to go about purging with something that worked better for me. Instead of gathering all the "books" in my apartment (she touts doing objects vs location ie ALL clothes ALL books vs your bedroom or closet etc) I started in my bedroom. No disrespect to Ms Kondo, but I know myself better than she does.
I touched EVERYTHING. Thought I'd get rid of a book or two for sure. I got rid of seventeen. Now everything in that room serves me TODAY. Not the life I had before in South Carolina. Not what appealed to me years ago even post move. Books from years and years ago at the time I bought for a dollar I knew odds are I'd never read. But at the time, I had more bookshelves. I had more room, but that's not really the point it is? They no longer serve me. I no longer want them and many, many other things I touched. Some things I got rid of I've had for more years than I care to admit to. No longer. Not one thing remains I don't want or can use or truly love. It felt as if I shed a hundred pounds (or more) of mental baggage.
So let me bring us back to that night last week. I finally realized why I have felt such an overwhelming, depressing, darkness, can't breath, paralyzing feeling come over me when I walk in the door of my awesome apartment. I bought organizers for the utensil drawer (yes, directly inspired by Ms Kondo) and I was arranging things just so. I looked around. The kitchen felt as awesome as my bedroom and then it hit me. Physically I moved in May 2, 2014. The night this all happened, January 20, 2019 I moved in mentally and emotionally. I never really moved in in 2014. I was still grieving the loss of my mom and sorting thru the major transition of picking up my life and starting all over. I have begun the process of making room for who I am today by letting go of the past in the form of a book, or trinket that no longer serves me or makes me happy. Physical and mental clutter and baggage are disappearing and its AMAZING.
I have the rest of the apartment to do and while its daunting to touch everything you own the payoff is immeasurable. Last week I realized with the small touches, a new rug here, an organized drawer there, I didn't just move here, I LIVE here now. This IS home and these are the things I choose today to surround myself with. Some are old and some are new. Some things I've had for decades. The feelings of overwhelming, depressing, darkness, and can't breath, and totally paralyzed seem to be all but evaporating in front of my eyes. I just Googled the definition of Epiphany. I didn't realize it, but apparently it has many different meanings. I like this one I just read in the book " You are a Badass" by Jen Sincero. GET THIS BOOK. Anyway, I love her definition: "An epiphany is a visceral understanding of something you already know". I think that is a fitting definition. Don't you? 💕
Tootles 😜🤓
Heather
