I’d like to start off with an apology. If you’ve been anywhere within earshot of me (and that includes Facebook posts, btw), you’ve heard me complain about how stressed out I’ve been. Have you had any of those days? Of course you have – you’re human. And I’ve been very, um, human, lately.
My husband and I are trying to sell our home of 11 years, where we’ve raised our sons and our dog. We just closed on our new home, after weeks of stressful paperwork and phone calls, not knowing if the mortgage lender would cover our dream property, not knowing if someone else would sweep in and buy it from under us. I’ve packed up dozens of boxes of our belongings and have driven trunkfuls of clothes, toys, décor, and kitchenwares to Goodwill to donate. I’ve been keeping my house white-glove clean for weeks, for we never know when a potential buyer will want to view it. That involves never having dishes in the sink, spots on the mirrors, dust on the TV stand, or a speck of dirt on the floors. For someone who’s never minded a little of that, it’s exhausting.
You may have noticed by now that I’ve not mentioned anything that has to do with dance or fire arts. I’m getting to that. For at work this past week, I was expressing my woes of moving, which is in particular causing more strife than I could’ve ever imagined (I won’t bore you with the details), to a colleague, and I was nearly in tears. She said to me, “you need to go to your happy place,” and then I was almost immediately there. My happy place! That’s exactly what I needed. I went on to tell her about how yes, the next night I’d be performing fire poi spinning and fire eating with one of my favorite local bands at Circus Mojo, and that there would even be some Ringling Brothers clowns there, since they were passing through town this weekend. I knew then that my happy place wasn’t far. She laughed, and said, “of course your happy place would involve fire dancing and clowns,” and I knew that I’d be OK.
So, friend, when you’re buying a house, selling a house, changing jobs, getting married, getting divorced, training a feral dog, starting college, or any other energy-consuming endeavor, don’t forget to look for your happy place. Visit it if you can. Know that it’s there, patiently waiting for you.
I know that I have a couple more months of stress ahead of me as I transition to a new home, in a new town, with new routines and commutes. But I also know that my happy place is dancing, or hula hooping, or laughing with my friends. And that’s what will keep me from going crazier than I already am (I know you won’t let me get away with saying it will keep me sane, smart-mouth). 😉 I think it’s also important to remember that most stressful situations are temporary. We get through them, and then they’re a part of the past, and a part of us.
Writing from my happy place,