Change Creates an Emotional Journey
It’s been an emotional couple of weeks. I moved 55 steps down the hall, and then moved my 99 year old mother in with me. Change is always a challenge, but change this time around created other turmoil. My emotional trauma came upon me at unexpected times.
Funny how we often will reject change. But this time around I embraced it with open arms, putting aside any childhood wounds that no longer serve me and being open to something new. To make the move, packing was pretty easy… a 3-teired wheeled cart, a flat bed cart and hand truck plus furniture dollies made the transport of my “stuff” so much easier – before, during and after the guys moved all my heavy furniture. It wasn’t until I was in my new home for 10 days that I went back to my old apartment to clean up and cover up my wall murals with paint since it was a requirement to leave the place the way I received it 10 years ago.
Painting the mural in the bedroom was quick… no emotion there. After all it wasn’t one of my better paintings. And the little flower garden at the entrance of the kitchen didn’t move me either. It was when I started to paint the wall mural in the bathroom – that’s been my muse since June 2007. I loved that mural and so did everyone who used my bathroom. Covering it with white paint was downright painful. I cried the entire time I painted it. And when I had to do a second coat the next day, I cried again. The same thing happened while I was mopping my hardwood floors. They gleamed with the Murphy’s Oil as the light shined on them with pride. And my new kitchen with the granite counter tops and stone tile floor… I only got to enjoy for a year. . It’s funny how we are attached to material things, the beauty they give our lives and the memories they create.
I had to have a talk with myself. As I painted the mural, I was crying about covering something so pleasurable, so beautiful, so creative… I whimpered through my tears: “I will paint another – even more beautiful in my new bathroom.” And, yes! I will! The memories of my artistic endeavors in that apartment … from art journaling classes to painting the pink tree in the spring and enjoying the view of the evergreen tree and park bench. Well, I will just have to create new memories of artistic endeavors in my new home. All the joy and fun I had cooking in my new kitchen with the granite countertops and stone tile floor… I’ve never cooked so much in the last year since having the new kitchen. But I’ve already cooked many meals in my new home and will cook many more before this is uploaded.
Change in hard, yet how many times have I written, said or told others “change and shape your future.” It applies to moving to a new home, sharing a home with another and everything else that goes with moving – changing your life and trusting the greater power that all will be just fine – and probably better than before. New doors will open, life will be different, it’s change and my life is changing – for the better.
My first night in my apartment, Ziggy and Zack had a major melt down dealing with the fear of a new place, new smells, new sounds and for 2 hours each meowing constantly, panting, racing heart and pacing – each for 2 separate hours… so it was a stressful night from 1 am – 6 am with these 2 cats traumatized with moving from the only home they ever knew. Rescue Remedy came to my rescue the next day, calming them. Eventually each of them made the adjustment to the new place.
I’ve kept journaling throughout this emotional move and today was no different. I awoke to a dog barking… not incessantly, just a couple of barks off in the distance every minute or so. After about an hour the bark was louder – almost sounding as if it was under my window. It was 6 am and dawn had just begun. What did I see out my window but a big white dog barking a couple of times and then trying to walk – dragging his back legs. He is a dog that lives in one of the houses that backs up to the property line of the apartment complex I live in. The dog was badly injured – possibly hit by a car, since he couldn’t move the back half of his body – only drag it. He is a white huskie/lab mix so he was quite large. This dog was crawling home to his owner and was about 100 feet from the door and couldn’t go any further. I cried, praying for that dog to make it. After about a few minutes, I called the police and asked if they could come out and contact the owner, as I recognized the dog as being a neighborhood dog but didn’t know which house. When the officer came, he asked me to bring some water to the dog. Instantly the dog was lapping up the water and not interested in hurting anyone, just wanting help. The owner was by the dog’s side within 10 minutes and carried him off to the ER for treatment. I cried all morning, knowing I did the right thing getting help for this dog and possibly saving his life. He’s my white dog. I wrote about him this morning… “my white dog” as I called him.
So, it’s been an emotional week. I welcome more emotion, and more change, since life continues to revolve. I remember I once wrote, “change is constant and all else revolves around it.” This week and all these events have certainly proven itself. It makes for more writing, journal prompts and God only knows what else. Stay tuned… as the journal fills up.