Hello all, and happy Monday! I am currently writing this from a slightly damp picnic table, in the backyard (!!) of our new apartment. That's right! A yard! True luxury. Chris is cooking salmon on the grill. Bear is curled up next to me. We've had a lovely, productive but relaxed, last weekend before skating season is officially back.
We've been in the new place for a week now and it feels very, very right. This is where we need to be. The apartment has two floors, a basement, and outdoor space. We have an office. A full-sized kitchen. Two parking spaces. We are very, very excited to turn this into our home, but it already feels very cozy and very us.
A word that's been echoing in my head as we unpack and settle in this week has been space, and the many ways we need space in our lives. Sure we are starting this "new year" off with more physical space at home, but with this new back-to-school season I am finding myself craving more space in every sense of the word.
More space to do good, good work. For one of the first times in my adult life, I am entering this season with just one job. I am currently a full-time skating coach, and a full-time student. I have been making myself absolutely sick all week worrying about if I will be making "enough" and how this is all going to work, and feeling pretty bad about myself for not chasing more opportunities. But, enough. I need this space. I am ecstatic for school. I love it so, so much, and I am not giving the opportunity to really be able to focus on it up. And I love my skating students. I have so many ideas to grow my coaching business, and I'm excited to have the real space, during real work hours, to make some dreams happen.
More space to do what feels good. Last spring, I hit an insanely good work out streak. I was probably in the best shape of my life. But, with a busy summer and a stressful move, I've fallen off that train a bit. My body has been feeling it: I am lethargic and moody and just sore, so often. I went on a run this morning, and I did a strength workout yesterday. I've also done yoga a record three days in a row. So, yes. Getting back to making time to feel good in my body.
More space to know myself. I hide behind being busy. I run myself ragged, and then get upset (and blame others) when my needs aren't being met. I have been in therapy for well over a year now, and some of it is actually starting to stick. I am feeling much lighter. And I know (even if I don't necessarily know how) that the work of maintaining that mental health comes down to me, not others. My skating parents will always text at bad times. My friends won't be able to read my mind. Strangers will cut me off while driving. And it's not Chris' job to walk on eggshells around me. Through better knowing myself, and acknowledging what I actually need, I can put myself in a position to be content and happy. That is my work, but one needs some brain space to do it.
More space to care. A huge shift I have felt in the past 6 months or so has been how much Chris, Bear, and I really feel like a family. I want to care for this family. I've been thinking a lot about the term "homemaker". Not in the 50's housewife, make me a sandwich way: but in a way that really honors the sacredness of family, and my desire to create a healthy and thriving one. I want to create a comfortable, safe home for us. I want us to be nourished and happy. I want us to have the space to change and grow, because we know that we are secure. And I want to be a better friend: more space for catch-up phone calls, and thank you notes, and having people over to play cards.
More space to mess up. I want to try new hobbies, and mess up! I want to be more public with my friends about what's hurting! I want to have hilarious stories of mishaps to share over drinks, and send embarrassing texts to friends. I am so, so tired of protecting myself and sharing just the glossy bits (or possibly worse....the hard bits I've polished into some sort of "authentic" Instagram caption essay). When I am a mess, I just want to be a mess. Sometimes, there's beauty in that. Sometimes, it's just a mess. But it's real, and that's what I'm craving.
More space to just BE. When all of the church stuff concerning our wedding went down, I felt sad and angry. But I also felt a release. It was the final rip of the Band-Aid: no matter how hard I tried, I never would have been able to be the full, in-the-flesh version of myself in front of them, and been accepted. That was never an option; I just wasn't aware. And now that that is officially not an option, I no longer have to try. I can just be me. I can just BE. I can be tired. I can be hungover. I can be happy. I can be sensual, and ambitious, and annoyed, and curious. I can be all the thousand things that I am, but always experienced rules around. Cheers to that!
A prayer for space in your new season: may you get to be yourself. May you choose to be yourself. May you have room to mess up. And may you have space to celebrate each and every thing, and best of all, not overthink them. Amen to that, and cheers to you.
Happy Sunday, friends! xoxo.
