If one could see me right now as I write this article, they would see me sitting at my desk wearing a pink hoodie, (with the hood up), black fingerless gloves to accessorize my cold house and a small blue plastic bowl three inches from my fingers filled with Honey Nut Cheerios. Who knew one could live on Cheerios, canned salmon, the local grocery store salad bar, and gluten-free apple cinnamon muffins! I certainly had no idea. For decades, life consisted of food planning, shopping, cooking and cleaning. Accounting for 3 meals a day for all living under my roof, and the given concern regarding in-between-meal snacks that made sure to surprise, delight and nourish.
My first trip to the market after my son moved out was like a punch to the mind, body and spirit. Who am I? How is it that I ended up responsible for no one but myself? What am I doing in the egg isle? Do I need eggs?
When people talked about “Empty Nest Syndrome”, I used to think to myself that it sounded like a strong name for something that gave you the freedom to have sex anywhere in your house at any time and then afterwards allowed you to plan multiple cruises. No one told me about the existential crises in the market that would continue on, or how critical of myself I would feel being someone who held a degree in Positive Psychology, yet I was an intense sad empty sack of identity disconnect.
Understanding what it was about gave little consolation to the feelings involved. The small things that took hold in a big way were what surprised me the most. I kept thinking that it felt like a break-up. Someone you love and lived with for many years, someone you did most everything with (especially in my case as a solo parent), and then… they leave. Where does all that focused love go? What about the energetic connection in taking that person into consideration with all your decisions? Not to mention missing the sheer delight of seeing their face every day.
Such sadness about this change took hold on a perhaps deeper level than the average case. I knew I needed to figure out some antidotes to start moving forward. I knew that eventually we adapt to our circumstances, but I didn’t feel like I was doing that. I felt a downward spiral instead that needed a look-see beyond this change in circumstances.
I made a list of all the friends I wanted to see but hadn’t in a long time. I reached out to most of them and have made sure to see them, or with some we are at least circling around the notion of a plan. I realized that added to the recipe was a very important ingredient; doing things I’ve never done before! Any experience I have now had that was new no matter how seemingly insignificant, started to rewire my brain for moving forward.
Recalling a study in my schooling where happiness level tests were done with people that had great loss in their lives, I mean we are talking about losing limbs, and after a year of processing the new circumstances most of them returned to their same basic level of happiness they had before their tragedies, even though they might be handicapped or in a wheelchair presently. I couldn’t stop thinking about this study – and how my situation is so minor in comparison, and yet I was not bouncing back… Then I realized, I needed to bounce forward… not back. There was nothing there for me behind me.
We all have uniqueness in our strengths, in our weaknesses, in our depth of feel, and in our cognitive bias and habits, things we tell ourselves about our story. The important thing is not to become a victim of our given circumstances, which is hard not to do, especially for me, but I’m working on accepting where ever it is I find myself, and knowing that starting from there, I get to keep walking. Acceptance also keeps us out of the notion of perfection seeking and lack there of. Even just being aware of split second moments in life that feel just right while we set up bigger picture navigation helps to add optimism to our story.
Can I create all that I want; the big full career, the perfect relationships for support and love, and the amazing picture of health, and all immediately? No. But I could see my friends, try new things, map out some goals, and enjoy eating things I don’t have to cook.
