There's a bit of an unpleasant truth within this process of shock, grief and healing. It's the part where you become totally disorientated. These days I have somewhat lost my internal compass and because there are so many moments where I am unable to put a single clear thought together and I am trying so hard to do otherwise, my short term memory has disintegrated. Apparently it's all quite normal and my ability to remember basic daily tasks will return but for now, there is just so much within me that remains completely incoherent. Honestly, it's really annoying! Annoying because this is the reality of what I'm living with, but then there is this other part of me that is standing by observing the whole thing. I'm pretty sure that doesn't make much sense which makes it a perfect example of how spacey I am. I don't think I have any choice other than to surrender to this way however, because I lack the energy or the ability right now to fight against it. Plus I'm pretty sure that I'm not meant to be fighting it and right now I'm certain Tuck is saying to me... "It is what it is, Sweety" (yeah yeah, righto mate, I know). The frustration comes because I'm usually one to keep things in pretty sharp focus. I write lists, I menu plan, I prepare and I organise and without the clarity to formulate such things most days are feeling scattered which is making things all a bit tricky.
The other thing is, I have no idea what 'normal' is anymore. Those things that were 'normal' are mostly feeling kinda hard and anything foreign is waaay too overwhelming. It's early days, this I know, and I also know that there will come a time in the not too distant future where I will regain my rhythm and be able to predict our days a little more. A time when the stronger hours gain momentum and the rough ones become fewer. I know this is how it is and I am trying to be gracious in accepting that this is where I am at right now, however I do look forward to that time when we transition into a new 'normal' and I can rely on my own built-in solid foundation a little more heavily.
I do wonder what our new 'normal' will look like. There will be one of course, for it is impossible to simply carry on as usual. Nothing is the same. I am facing a complete re-birth of my life. Geez that sounds heavy! What I mean is this process brings with it a deep sense of having to let go. Letting go of so much including whatever use to be 'normal'. I have to move through the blur and lack of focus until I emerge the other side. There are a million forks in the road ahead of me and some of those forks show me roads I definitely do not want to take. Some are completely unknown and some have a few familiar steps but are quickly followed by bends and curves around which I have no idea what awaits. I think I'm choosing one of those. A little bit of the familiar with a whole lot of the unknown to follow. You see, it's that rebirthing thing. Good golly, I really am a caterpillar (a.k.a. The Conscious Caterpillar). And right now I am wrapped in my cocoon until the time comes when I nibble my way out transformed. Yikes, there's beauty in it to be sure, but also so darn terrifying. Feel the fear and do it anyway, right!?!
I don't know when it will happen, but bring on the butterfly wings, I say! Moths are beautiful too, but I want to be a butterfly. Will you catch me if I fall? I'm bound to fall a few times, but then I'll pick myself up, dust myself off, hold my head high and try again. That's how we learn isn't it?
ps/ today's image was taken long ago with my old camera, not my fancy new one.