Par for the Paramour

Hits: 1

Every new calamity is a simple scene for the inevitable great escape. The measure of kindness given in a honest attempt to be friendly and polite can easily be misread where matters of the heart are concerned.

Yesterday was a great day with the Arlo unit. Almost everything was there that I wanted for him to have. The sun strewn through the windows, across the empty void and on to the wall- down to my son’s toys where it meandered in and out of the odd shapes and colors of plastic and wooden toys. At some point, it met the floor and crossed to the other side of the room, where it came to an abrupt end.

Joyful were the occasional cooing sounds coming from my son, as he contently began pulling his toys from their resting spots across shelves and trays.

In the background, music was playing, a collection of songs created only a week and a few days ago as the result of switching from one online service to another online service due to the coolness of features the second service offers. The wafting stink of blueberry muffins rising up and out of the oven to fill the olfactory.

These are the things that memories are built from, really.

It was almost perfect in many ways. The things that I feel are important for my son to have and experience when we are together are there in most parts.

Yet, I still sat there thinking about the things that weren’t there. The sounds of busy-making other than Arlo or myself. The feeling of an otherwise unoccupied space in the house that wasn’t necessarily meant to be there- a silent-empty, but it was there.

After speaking to my psychologist this past week, it was determined that he has almost assessed that there isn’t really much reason for me to go much longer.

He has said that the stress of all that has gone down in the past year appears to have found a resting place. We chit-chatted about recognizing patterns of behavior around areas that I sometimes struggle with during times of stress, and I suppose that I’ll go for a few more sessions to discuss those matters in a little more detail as a way to bring some closure to it all.

But, the lingering feeling of “What’s next?” that remained still bothers me a little bit, even now.

Guessing that it’s probably important to note that the “What’s next?” feeling wasn’t and had nothing to do with my son’s mother at all.

As I sit here, scanning my current emotional state in an attempt to reproduce what it was in that moment that I felt it- the only thing that I can suggest that it may have been was a feeling similar to the one you might get when you begin the next step in a gigantic new project, a change or shift in the daily routine and towards something that you can’t quite yet see on the horizon.

It’s there- a change.. I know the feeling well.

Mentally, I have been making lists for weighing pros and cons on either side of a crudely drawn centerline down many sheets of paper. Knowing exactly what is best for myself, my son and the thing to do for the future is one thing, but when there are multiple factors across a variety of categories… that’s where the uncertainty clouds the mind and the relationship between present and future versus the past and where I’ve been all kind of… fade to grey.

It stands true for me that when an unexpected zeitgeist occurs- with the realization that change is on the horizon, a notion that there is something beyond the hills over there, and taking a step while following the bread crumb trails is somewhat terrifying to say the least. Yet- I have to take each moment with a pint of positive juice, if you will. So long as the momentum to view the upcoming changes remain as something to not be afraid of, not be hesitant to explore because it pushes me beyond the boundaries of what I am comfortable with, then I can probably say that I’m most likely in a pretty solid place emotionally.

But, where does one safely evaluate the aspect of “desire for a return to the balance that was” and simply “letting go completely” where time and space and situational circumstances are all outside factors?

I’m probably not making much sense in writing this so cryptically, on my phone.
Pensive is the mood today.
Now, I’ll just sit here and enjoy the sun on my shoulders as I look over the pond and sculpture that I’ve grown used to looking at for the past few years of my lunch break.

Time will tell, and the only course of action for me to take is to continue with questioning how I can improve upon that which I see as my own life choices. If the path leads to another doorway, then it will lead me there.

End game is to be happy with what I have been given. That is pretty much where it’s at and going to be until some other factor comes in to play.

Yet- sometimes optimism is a shiny thing, and we’re easy to distract.

Now, where are my marbles and stick for drawing in the dirt when I need them?
Oh right… choking hazard.