The 50th Time

Dear Ellen

It's been an interesting week. I never know what to expect when I get up in the morning, but I think that might be a good thing. If I knew what was coming in a day I may not be so ambitious about climbing out of bed. Not that it's all bad, just overwhelming in a confusing insane sort of way. You think you've got something figured out only to realize you haven't even scraped the surface and you're still on hold, waiting for a human being to answer the call.

I'm learning about balance again. For the 50th time. I'm trying to figure out who I am in this new beginning place and it's really awkward for me. My feelings often confuse my perspective, affect my reactions, cloud clear thinking and turn me into a bewildered adult with an eight year old mentality. This makes for interesting conversations with myself, but does confuse my friends. I am trying to understand new boundaries, new challenges, a new relationship with myself and it requires balance. It requires standing outside my own skin observing the chaos and then deciding how I might tweak my thinking. It requires me to remember my manners, sometimes with others, but mostly within myself. It's kind of exhausting, but if I can figure out the most simple things these days, then I celebrate a victory.

What I missed the most this week is our long talks. You would always listen to me, always understood me and always told me to get over myself. I miss that. I miss how we would collapse in laughter when I would finally realize how absurd I was. Maybe that's my problem, it's hard to find balance when half of me is still missing.

love,
cathy