There’s been another shift. Ever since I declared 2012 the year of dating and book tours I’ve had this urge to rip down the walls of my life, both literal and metaphorical, and create a new base to work from. It’s started in my bedroom. I moved into this flat over three years ago, and it’s the one room that hasn’t really changed in all that time. I’ve bought new sheets and new clothes but the furniture — most of it hand-me-downs– has remained the same. Everything is still where we put it when I moved in. The energy in the room feels stagnant and it’s only just hit me what a bells-and-whistles metaphor this is for my non-existent love life.
So I’ve been purging. Clearing out drawers and wardrobes. Giving away chairs and cabinets. Taking tens of bags of books to the charity shops. Donating clothes that don’t fit and shoes I can’t walk in. The best birthday present my family gave me on Sunday was to take half of the furniture in my bedroom with them when they left. Slowly slowly I am starting to breathe again. I crave space around me when I sleep. I want to invest in pieces of furniture that will come with me when I next move, items bought because i love them not because an old flatmate left them and somehow they ended up living with me seven years later — talk about carrying old memories with you, sheesh. I am no longer that girl who lived in London. I don’t want to carry the dust of the past into my future.
Coincidentally (but not really) I spent 24 hours in London at the end of last week, and after a fun afternoon with Elizabeth and Christine, I headed over to Sas’s place for homemade soup and a glass of red. Over brunch the next day my very clever pal helped me plan my book tour on paper before we ran around Portobello market taking photos and eating red velvet cupcakes for lunch. On the way to Paddington we parked for a moment outside the place I used to live. As I pointed out my old bedroom window to Sas, and the restaurant where we’d had our last dinner together, I realised that I felt no strong emotions as I sat there giving my friend a tour through my old life. I was more excited about the plans we’d been discussing the night before, and about the life I’ve proudly built all on my own.
Everything that has gone before is important, but it’s what we do with what we’ve learned that matters the most.
There has been a new batch of emotions to process lately — connected to past decisions and actions, to ways of being that I would not choose to inhabit again. Emotions with labels like shame and guilt, stuff I hadn’t realised was sitting in my chest until I made the space and poof there it is, waiting for me to take a peek. Turns out the unravelling never really ends — there’s always more to discover and let go of.
Just like the books and chairs I’ve given away.
So I’ll continue to make space for new clothes, new emotions, new lessons, a new man. Out with the old, in with the sparkly, heart-racing excitement of the NEW.
* * * * *
Speaking of new, we’ve updated the site design a wee bit — what do you think? The Unravelling page is looking particularly swanky. There are still pages to do, but all in good time… just like the rest of my flat/life :)