Limbo and Chocolates

I tweeted last week a nod to the famed Forrest Gump - "Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get." No truer words have ever been spoken. You relish days that play out and ignite the sparkle inside when you bite into the caramel and you quietly anticipate going to sleep at the close of days that are a damp cloth like biting into an orange cream. Lately it's been a roller coaster between caramels and orange cream in our world - and I've found myself feeling a bit mired up in the damp cloth days. The muck often seems to build this time of year and, perhaps not coincidentally, seems to echo the notions associated with a pensive, thoughtful Lenten season. This year has been more odd than some in the past and while I typically set out with a path in mind for these posts, today I have no idea where this is going. There's no end game in mind. It's simply obvious to me that there's some disturbance in my soul that's got to work itself out in words on paper and I'm trying to make space for that. I don't know if it's the fact that we've come to the end of a two week break from school, if it's the rain that has decided to return and bring its clouds or if it's the reminders of late that limbo seems to be our new normal. Regardless, there's a wrinkle that I can't quite flatten in my emotional state and I'm trying to work it out.

It's become clear over the years that I'm more and more introverted as I grow older. I've decided that means that I'm increasingly comfortable with being with me - and that's a good thing. Being with people still gives me great joy, don't get me wrong, but my batteries need recharging more regularly these days. The idea of a two-week spring break might just be one of the most wonderful ideas ever. I really loved it and I really loved having Henry and Lydia at home - we have fun together. Last year we traveled and that was ideal. Philip's full-time presence made that spring break nothing short of holy as we had all four of our little family together for days - away from the 'regular'. This year was fun as well - our time was amplified by visits from family and friends, but it was diminished as Philip has been swamped at work and he had to toggle in the tension of being needed at the office and us needing/wanting him at home. It was tougher on him than us, I'm almost certain. Suffice it to say, my extrovert is used up. She's done. She's looking for some alone time and alone time she got today! A piece of me was counting down to 9:05AM this morning with the anticipation of a child on Christmas morning...because as of that moment my children would be delighted to be in their classrooms with friends and I would be headed out of the school for a long, solitary walk around the city. There's a choir of angels at the ready, I'm confident...if you heard them singing, you know why.

These solo walks have become integral to my mental health and I've been without them for almost 17 days - it's time - especially in these days of limbo. It's occurred to me that, in theory, we're more than halfway through our time here - that's weird. Weirder still, we know little about what's next. Most days that's OK, but in these days of extreme extroversion coupled with rain and small living space it's increasingly not OK. I have anxiety about multiple potential outcomes: 1- staying here would be fantastic but would also have implications in terms moving to get another bedroom and the whole very far from family piece would be amplified; 2 - moving back 'home' would be great but I have a hard time wrapping my head around transplanting my new self into my old world - I worry about how I will translate; 3 - going someplace entirely new is exciting but exhausting - provided the new place is someplace we want to go. Any way you slice it, there will be a season of packing and moving for the Marcums in the next 18 or so months. And I hate packing and boxes and moving. But I love adventure. Somehow I've got to re-frame my perspective toward adventure and away from moving.

In considering this limbo-ness, it occurred to me that we've been living in limbo for over 2 years now. Limbo is taxing. Limbo is flimsy. Limbo doesn't do much for your sense of place. It does, however, work wonders on your sense of self. Our identity as a family is better defined than it has ever been - sometimes to a fault because we've gotten comfortable in our self-centered reality. In terms of blood relatives, we're it for each other in this place. That's been enormously powerful in fostering our sense of belonging to one another and looking out for each other. It's allowed us to define family in new ways - and has broadened our understanding of what family means. Conversely, it's also meant our flexibility has decreased a bit - when you aren't juggling extended family personalities and are far removed, you lose a bit of your ability to adapt to people different from you. It's a funny dichotomy - this whole notion that you know no one in a place that's very different and have an emotional outlay in meeting new folks all the while surrounding yourselves with those whom you resonate easily so you become more yourself yet less able to flow among varying personalities. That may make absolutely no sense except in my head, but it's part of the limbo we're in and part of living in the tension created by a big move. I value connection to other people on a deeper level now and simultaneously value independence in a new way. It's flat out weird.

So, what's next? God only knows - literally. Somehow, some way, and hopefully soon, I've got to find a sense of peace with it all because I'm getting tired. And when I'm tired I get grumpy. Grumpy plays out poorly and I don't like myself so much when I'm in these ruts - my kids probably feel likewise. My goal is that by Easter and all of it's celebration of new life, rebirth and hope that my mental mood will embrace the pastel colors popping up and find the sunny side again. All will be well - in my head I know this, but my brain is having a hard time convincing my heart. This life thing is tricky. It's not all Warner Brothers and tidy literary denouements - it's gritty, emotional and sometimes full of orange cream filled chocolates. Here's hoping for a little caramel sparkle one day really soon.