Some days, I wake up and realize how small I’ve let my world become. It’s easy here. I don’t get out of this small corner of the world often, either mentally or physically. Work keeps me busy, keeps me exhausted as I’m still striving to exceed my own expectations. Failure is imminent most of the time, but I expect it. What keeps me going is the singular ray of hope that someday, I’ll be able to look back on this part of my life and be glad it’s behind me. Done. On to the next thing.
As long as I feel I’m moving forward in some way, I can deal with the setbacks, the disappointments. In many ways, this has been my time to shine even as I have retreated back into the shadows. Contradictory, as always, my existence in this life is as least, consistent. Despite my isolation, I am surrounded and feel deeply loved by those who remain close. In spite of the chaos, life has never felt so stable, so…mundane.
This is the first time in my life that I feel able to say, the choices I’ve made in the last couple of years were correct. Of course, that’s only because things turned out the way they needed to be for the time being. My choices were limited but at least they were mine to make. I think I’d been so use to others controlling my direction that I’d grown afraid to try it myself. This truly is the first time I can call my life my own.
Ah, but what to do with what remains? Time will fly by. The children will grow up and leave home. Given I don’t die before that happens, what to do when I’m alone again? Eh, I guess I’ll cross that bridge when it comes. Until then, onward into the nothingness until it become something recognizable.
Of course, I say all of this in full knowledge that it could all change tomorrow. Life has taught me that it only takes a moment. A singular twitch of the universe can change everything. Something significant can become intangible or nothing at all. “It is what it is,” seems to be the motto of my immediate circle of friends. I would never have expected to find so much stoicism here, and yet, somehow I’m not surprised.
No wonder so little has changed.
Part of me appreciates the stability and part of me abhors the stagnation and seeming lack of progress. The moments I force myself to stand back remind me of why I came here and why someday, I must leave.
★★★★★
I found your blog because it’s linked on a Korean adoptee blogroll. I’m commenting on this post instead of another because I can’t help but want to reach out to this kind of writing.
I want to invite you to come check out my own post today, over at The Lit Pub, where I’m talking about my own adoption, about choices I’ve made, about mother-loss and daughter-loss, about a book that has touched me and made me feel like I’m home, just by reading it.
Please, if you like what you see at our site, I hope you will consider sharing it with your networks, here and perhaps also on Facebook. We need all the help we can get spreading the word about what we’re doing, and what we’re doing is trying to connect people, to connect readers with authors, but ultimately to be a gathering place for conversation, for discussion about shared human experiences.
Please come join us. I hope to see you there (and every comment earns you a chance to win free Lit Pub swag — tees, books, stickers, and bookmarks).
Yrs,
Molly
P.S. The post is here: http://thelitpub.com/chapter-one-the-chronology-of-water/
Thanks Molly, I’ve enjoyed going through your website. I think I would very much like to join in.