Hurry Up and Wait
I recall seeing an interview with a wildlife photographer who told about a time when a pride of lions decided to nap around his vehicle. He had scrambled on top of it when they approached, and was forced to wait for them to leave on their own, as they were blocking the doors. A safari tour drove by and one of passengers noticed his plight and shrieked, “oh, why doesn’t he do something?!” and the photographer was both amused and annoyed by this. What was there to do? He wasn’t sitting on top of his vehicle because it was fun, he just couldn’t climb down until he was sure he wouldn’t become lunch in the process.
February has felt like that, for me. My partner spent most of the month at home, recovering from a planned surgery. This meant that I also had to be home, to care for him and also because he couldn’t care for kids on his own. We didn’t have a moving date, so I had a really strong sense of needing to do something, but also no clear direction for anything I could do. It’s thankfully not something I’ve experienced very often—I think the last time was nearly five years ago, when my youngest decided that his due date was three weeks too early—and I struggle every time (at least this time I consciously channeled my anxious energy into reading stacks of books and clearing out things I wasn’t willing to move).
I’m trying to stay in the present, recognizing that a lot of big change is going to happen very soon, and I’ll probably be packing boxes and painting walls while listening to podcasts, instead of knitting and nervously bouncing one leg. One thing that’s been helpful has been making lists of things that will need to be done, and also taking note of which of our routines and practices seem to be the most helpful overall, so I can prioritize them as we begin the packing up process. Really, the things that are most troublesome are the ones I can’t control; timing with selling our current home and moving into another one, finding someplace to live that’s affordable and will fit us all and is a reasonable commuting distance for my partner, the logistics of trying to prepare a home to sell when there are three children currently living in it… waiting for the lions to leave, and trusting they’ll do so peaceably and without deciding I’m worth the effort of eating.