Complications from Clarity
It’s been almost a month since my dad left the world, and I’m starting to spot the evidence of him leaving my life, too. No anxiety attacks. I’m sleeping easily and well. Things I’ve struggled with for years are suddenly effortless; my dayjob most of all. I’m not fully caught up at work or at home after the time I spent in Arizona, but since then my productivity has been so formidable that I’m catching up fast.
Those are big things, but the impact of dad’s death is pervasive and shows itself in strange, small ways. I don’t have to eat every meal like it might be my last. I stopped double-checking all the window locks at night. I can ‘call bullshit’ guilt-free. I keep smiling while I argue. (Still not 100% sure what that last one’s about, heh.)
My sense of urgency has undergone a tectonic shift. I can sit still and do nothing for a long time. Comfortably. If you know me at all, you know this small change is monumental. Until recently, idleness felt like standing too near a hot stove – I had to keep moving, or suffer the burn. Down time was anathema to me, but now I love my sofa.
The downside is that introspection is such a distracting hobby. Lately, I’m off in my own little world even more than normal. I may not be as excitable as I was a month ago, but I’m correspondingly harder to engage. I catch myself wondering at the areas of life where I’ve just been going through the motions – wondering for hours, instead of moving at all – and then wondering why I’ve just been going through the motions when it’s all so…wonderful.
The euphoria will fade in time, I’m sure, but perhaps I can cultivate the serenity. I like the idea of myself as someone calm.
Calm is a good thing but don’t let it drown you. You get to thinking in so much you forget to look out. I am glad that things are better for you, may they continue to do so.