Finding My Way

I hate the term, “The New Normal.” It just grates on me like, well, I guess I can’t say, “nails on a chalkboard” because now schools either have write on/wipe off boards (because throw away markers are so much better for our health and for the Earth than chalk…hmmmm)  or “Smart Boards.” So what term can I use?

     I suppose I need no “term,” because I have reasons. Although change is a constant, the type of change one encounters or initiates themselves, is not. In my case, complete change of both living situation and relationship.

     This, does not feel “normal.” It used to. When I was an active Army Brat, moving was a regular part of our lives. The acclimation was a major stressor, but I knew that feeling would pass. Well, until the next time we moved, and as I aged, the feelings morphed according to my hormones.

     I love, love, love this new/old (built in 1895) house and for the first time since 1977, I live in a neighborhood where people actually know one another and look out for one another. It is fascinating as I meet each neighbor on my dead-end street. My daughter has never lived in a neighborhood like this before. She loves it. She feels safe. So do I.

     And yet, I have come to realize that the independent spirit I had honed so well in my 20’s, needs, how shall we say, a major tune up at age 63. Going to a new gas station brought a trepidation. Doing laundry (in my basement) brought a “what if the basement floods?” fear.

      I feel rather like a new driver-aware of everything little thing I do, and narrating it in my mind. “Now, I am making my coffee. I am turning on the shower lever.” How long will this self-narration last? When will life begin to feel normal, natural, non-narrated?

      Today, it feels like it never will, and yet I know, that eventually, this life, will feel, well, like my life. Do I need a Mary Tyler Moore moment, where I throw my hat up in the air? Or a That Girl Marlo Thomas wink at myself in a window?

     They were not 63. I am going into uncharted territory. Well, I’m sure there are plenty of people like me, they just don’t have TV sitcoms to normalize it for the populace at large. Do not, just do not mention “The Golden Girls” or anything akin to that in the comment section!

     Perhaps Paul Simon’s ‘70’s hit, “Still Crazy After All These Years” fits me better than anything else. Or, better yet, the title of my own book, Out of Place, only I’d have to alter it to, Out of Place Again.

     Out of Place Again…She was a Relationship Nomad, beginning over in a new city, at an age when most people are considering retirement homes. But she was vital, had all her teeth and wanted something more.

     Actually, writing that down felt really good. I suppose I need to put things into written word to make them real and to flush out the idea to clarity.

      Lest you think I am now fear free, please be assured that that is an impossibility. Anxiety is my lifelong traveling companion. It is not my friend. I am still trying to think of another word for “it.” “It” is simply part of my essence. It does not need to be cognitively therapied away, or de-sensitized, it is part of who I am, just as much as my sense of humor.

     Okay, so, maybe I’ll go in my backyard, throw my hat in the air, wink at myself in a window and know that as the late, great Bob Marley said, “Everything little thing’s, gonna be alright.” Oh, not without “A Little Help from My Friends.”

      Yes, yes, there is always a song in my heart. I have a constant playlist and the song matches the mood or situation. What song is playing in your heart today? Drop me a comment below. Hit the Heart to show, if you would please, that you at least opened my piece. I get it. Everyone is busy, and there may not be time in your life to read my ramblings.

     Oh, oh, that makes me think of, Lean on Me. “Sometimes in your life, we all have pain, we all have sorrow”…ahhhhh Bill Withers.  Thank you for reading my piece today everyone. Let’s see, after I post this piece-nah, no need for more narration. I am Out of Place Again.