It has been a about a month since I’ve added a post. In that month, once again, everything has changed. My store front is officially closed. It was a week of packing up a years worth of accumulated stuff. I’d kept every button, scrap of ribbon, stone and shell. Boxes of art supplies are still in the dining room. I feel relief. I’ve learned what I needed from that time. But the cost is gone, releasing the weight of it. My husband has gone to a new venture. It is his new chapter now. He has left the “safe” options for a chance to build and create. Out of pocket health care 1099 kinda work. But a sense of accomplishment and pride is the end result. It was an immediate switch to routine. Overnight almost, that left me trying to figure out a new structure to our days. This leaves Niko, myself and the pets home. I am kicking myself for not utilizing the time he was home to get more done. The overwhelm of adding a small business and all of it’s parts to a home set in. But I started to slowly put the pieces into their place. My office / studio is right on. It looks better than ever. And it feels amazing. I have allowed myself to slow. Taking more deliberate movements. Instead of the laundry list, that was exhausting from the moment I opened my eyes, I try to accomplish one important task. Something that is the most impactful. I will be teaching children’s art classes at my mentor’s studio. I am thrilled.
We have been taking day trips. I can see the effect of the quarantine on my child. He prefers the couch and YouTube to outside play. He is tired after we are out. Wanting to take breaks. A trip yesterday to an outdoor shopping center had more than one bench break, and a request to “chill out” today. I plan on an adventure tomorrow. I am one of the parents attempting to send him to Pre-K. The three days a week is going to be important to his socialization. His immune system. His mental health. He is an only child and needs play, to learn, and experience life. My fear that school will become homebased is very real. The start date has been pushed back. I wandered around Target yesterday, a cart full of markers, play-doh, crayons, and an obscene amount to glue. 94oz?!! of glue. I got a gallon jug…. and masks. The cleaning wipes have vanished. I expect to see an episode of hoarders in 10 years. Towers of Lysol wipes precariously teetering. Never once opened to actually clean the home in which they reside. Dusty Lysol wipes.
It has been another month of growth, and I’m not talking waistline. My understanding of aging, and my finding my place and peace since my last post. My acceptance of being human. accepting others for being humans. All of the flaws that come with it. The change could be early for me. It is in the bloodline. Though I did get a small fishing trip, it was with my husband and kid. No deep women’s talk over white claw and cheap beers. But fishing. And my ladies of Tarot (and man) group is staying strong. I carved a set of Runes, the latest topic at the meeting. I have taken on more responsibility for my aging mother. She is no longer driving, not her choice. She is a free spirited woman that gets up every morning and goes. She is now relying on others. I am taking her out at least once a week. It is difficult to watch the cloud of time creep in. I have to remind myself to be patient with her.
That brings me to the final thought of this post. I want to do a deep dive into my ancestors. I call them in, but I don’t really know their stories. I had a very lovely visit with a cousin. She and I both share the same beliefs and gifts. We talked of where they may have originated. She had worked on a tree a while back. She was able to tell me more than anyone. Her mother has been so important to me, and the last keeper of our history. The surviving member of my father’s people. Her inability to locate keys is making me think I need to get some records. My mother is not much help. She speaks of great grandparents with love, but nothing I can feel. My sun and Mercury are in Virgo. I like the facts, the information. My rising, first house Pisces. The watery spiritual self. The mysteries. The need to understand us. The parts and bits that make us. I know the worst parts, the toxic traits, the addictions and ways, the ‘it’s in the blood’. The things to heal and break. I want the stories of the triumphs. The trades. I know of artists, butchers, farmers, soldiers, movie stars, but only a taste. I want to know. The strength of the journey from homeland to shore. The wild parts that have made generations of us leave home early. The need to run. The beginning.