Moving has always made me itchy! I can remember my first ever! I was three and my parents and my newborn, baby sister and I moved from our home in one Detroit suburb to another Detroit suburb. Given that the year was 1979, you will NOT be surprised to learn that the new house was further away from Detroit. It would be over 15 years before I’d ever register the phrase “white flight” but that is, precisely, the era and we, my family – my father born and raised in the city, proper – were a part of it. As a preschooler who’d only known one home her entire, albeit, short life, I had no frame of reference. It was a traumatic and turbulent time and the trauma has had serious staying power.
I’m quite anxious on any given day so it’s no surprise that, although I RELISH the experience of “starting fresh” in a new space, I truly struggle to keep myself for spiraling when my foundation has been disrupted; as is unavoidable during any physical move.
As a child, it was always VERY important to me that I “get myself set up” before I could even THINK of resting. When I’m away from home for any length of time, it’s paramount that I “settle in” before I have any chance of fun. So you can imagine how well this week has gone for me. My boss and mentor is departing; our exciting, new clinic space is currently in phase 2 of a 5 phase reno – my office space is slated for phase 4 or 5 and; and as a cherry on top, I’m the recipient of a fancy new laptop and sweet monitor.
Thanks to the IT folks, my awesome co-workers, yoga and my genius, tech savy 16-year-old, my new set up is humming along quite nicely after several bumpy days. I am going to bed VERY late but, also, quite happy with the “foundation” I’ve been able to cobble together in the midst of shifting sands. I know that I need to keep breathing, communicating and being patient and kind with the nervous, unsure, three-year-old who lives inside of me. She has a LOT to say about change!!
Collecting Pieces of Me 