It started with an unsettling feeling followed by tears and turned into a full blown migraine.
There have been a lot of holidays lately – not my celebrations necessarily – but ones I have participated in over the last nine years. I find these holidays difficult to claim as my own – I have no childhood memories to warm them. Mostly I go through the motions because these will be my children’s memories. But surely they can tell.
I realized through my tears that it’s the imperfections of life that trouble me. And I realize imperfections are everywhere but they’re just covered up better in other places. I can’t escape the dust and the mold and the untrue corners. Sitting with this feeling, staying with my awkwardness, recognizing it as incomplete brings tears. And no new coat of paint or pristine mall will be able to change it. Ethiopia or Canada will not make the difference for me. Imperfection will always be there.
I think it brought on a migraine though because I’m trying to run from something that just is. Holidays will come – whether I claim them as my own or not. Whether I assert myself, or not. Rain or shine.
I am the moment between the thoughts. There is calm there.