Last night I wandered into the basement to stare at the boxes and furniture piled floor to ceiling. Boxes of our stuff. Pieces of our lives put away for sometime. It has been six months so far.
I want to unpack. I want to rediscover our wedding china, our eclectic library of books and movies and video games, our kitchen utensils, our photographs. I want to put things in their proper place. Control. Order. My identity is in there somewhere.
In the face of discovering more about myself I'm looking for something stable, something rooted, to remind me of who I am, who I have been. I am not trying to revert to a past life, just simply trying to remember how I have become me and what has been important to me along the way. Perhaps trying to find inspiration for what I might become next.
Did anyone notice that I mixed metaphors in a few of my last posts? I said that I needed to get off my high horse. I also said that I was back in the saddle. Hopefully the saddle I'm currently occupying is on a short horse. Or a dark horse. I like rooting for the underdog. Especially when they come from behind and surprise everyone. It's nice to be unpredictable once in a while.