Nothing is certain

…but change

(The moon at twilight yesterday)

Ah 3am, good friend.

Two nights in a row I slept through the night.

The tiny book will be here, below, written tomorrow, during daylight.

📚📚📚

My notes say the tiny book will be called:

Synthetic Consensus (oof, I have no idea what I’ll write)

Tiny book #51

💖💖💖

Most of the time I don’t think of myself as a being built of disorders. I don’t think of all the chronic pain and conditions my body is dealing with.

I just exist, best I can, day to day.

I gently care for my anxious heart. I try to be thoughtful to other people without overstepping or overcommitting.

This past year not living with my kids day to day has been strange. They are also anxious humans. With creative hearts. Our anxiety is likely genetic. Passed down from my parents. I imagine it a side effect of awareness.

Yesterday I hit a wall of tired. A wondrous child visiting the space brought me a puzzle she’d made…for me.

I don’t like puzzles. My mom does. There was always a puzzle on our table when I was a kid. I tried not to disturb them. Occasionally I would find a piece that fit.

Maybe I am oppositional to them because they feel like a demand. Finish me, they say. There is only one way. The pieces only fit just so.

So while I was so honoured that this gentle 8 year old had brought me a puzzle. The fact that she wanted me to finish it there and then put my system into opposition exhaustion. I tried to override it. I could. I’d used up all my energies on Wednesday.

Thankfully the creative club was the smallest it’s been in a long time. So the 9 year old who runs the club got to spend time with the 8 year old puzzle maker. They painted a nutcracker together while I stared at the puzzle and chatted with the two wondrous women who showed up.

I let them know my capacity was flagging. Instead of staying late as I’d intended, I instead asked if we could cut it short at 4:30pm.

The kids wanted more time, which was magical. That Curious & Kind is a place where people want to be is something that makes my heart feel full.

I’d already had such a beautiful morning creating tiny books with my friend. It was a beautiful and idyllic morning of art and friendship.

I got an email to call the property manager of the space I lease. She put an old school smiley face in the subject line.

Hello :)

Just like that. And a message to call her.

But that smiley face, it soothed my anxiety. A simple pictures message.

I got home and got over my fear of calling.

…and chatting with her was the gentle thing I needed. Someone is being evicted from their space in our tiny town. A local business person.

That person is looking for a space. A space like mine.

My kids are in the city. My lease isn’t up until June 30th, and I had intended to stay.

But Wednesday my youngest was having a hard night, exacerbated by his anxiety. He asked for a mental health day. I advocated on his behalf. He got one.

My chat with the property manager was full of laughter, and kindness. I let her know it was okay to show the space to the gentle person who was looking at having to close their business due to landlord issues.

I checked in on my kiddo.

His mental health hadn’t improved. The world is a lot right now. And he is a thoughtful human.

I listened to his genuine concerns. I listened to him fixate on a particular thing over which he has no control. I guided him through moving his brain through it to a gentler topic. We shared funny stories from our week.

I miss you he said.

I told him I was working on moving to the city as soon as I was able.

Sometimes the trajectory of my life isn’t always what I thought it would look like.

Being a parent is one of the most important things to me. My boys are teenagers, and I know how hard this time is. Having lived through it. Having been a grade 7/8 teacher. I know my presence has a soothing effect. My kids feel comfortable being emotionally honest with me. They don’t have to pretend everything is okay. And that frees them up for experiencing grief, joy, and all the other feelings that come along with being human.

My partner snoring was the impetus for my waking at 3am this morning.

…and my brain was trying to cycle through all the ways I might have not been perfect this week. And instead of scrolling, I decided to write prompts for future tiny books. And that freed my brain from its anxiety. I got to imagine myself writing another fifty books. I imagined winter ending. I imagined the warmth of spring. Of walking next to the ocean. Of the moments of community and friendship I’ve already shared in the past two years.

I know that the people who come to Curious & Kind understand that I’m human. That I care. That this beautiful thing isn’t forever.

Yesterday night the timeline might have changed. It depends on if the evicted business person will even want my space. But if they do…it’s possible that I may be shifting the plan to ending in April. I am writing this out, just in case, to see walk through the possibility of that happening.

I know the people who love me will understand that being with my children is important to me.

Once. Before I had kids. My mentor described to me how she felt about having children. She told me it was like having your heart outside your body. That the worry she experienced grew. But so did the love.

Not being able to hug my youngest tonight was hard. But he knows I’m doing what I can. The grave my kids show us each day is remarkable.

I feel so lucky that us three parents…their Dad whom they live with right now, and my partner and I…are all in the same side.

That our kids are loved, and that we work together to raise them, and listen to them…it is something I do not take for granted.

That my partner is willing to up and move again so we can start to be full time parents again, and that tonight we got to talk about how even a decade into our relationship how excited we still are to be together. It was soothing.

Every day I choose this little family. I show up for my neighbours and my community. I care, so much. And I feel cared for.

I know my nervous system is trying to deal with the changing schedule of my life. That my brain is trying to sort what can’t be sorted until it happens.

Writing it out…helps.

Ten years ago I hadn’t yet met my partner.

My 36 year old self was sad. Wondering what my life might look like. I wish I could go back and tell them…that I would survive a rollercoaster. And that now my life is calmer than it has ever been. That I feel anchored, and that the core parts of myself have survived…and are thriving.

I have to be up to play chess in 4 and a half hours. Then pick up my kids from the city.

I hope your Friday has moments of quiet. Had moments of quiet. (If that’s what you’d like) Depending on where you are in the world.

My love to you.

Heart,

Wake