Change

The past few days have been spent with my physical life in complete disarray.  The house was pulled apart, shuffled around, repainted, new fixtures, electrical work.  You name it, it was probably done in the last 72 hours.  And the final product is pretty stunning, I must say.  The guest bathroom is all but done.  I just need to earn some extra money to buy the faucet that matches the rest of the hardware we installed.  The dining room has chair molding with a gorgeous golden color underneath that all but makes the dining room furnishings glow with new life.  I'm itching to complete the rest of the upgrades which will probably take a year or so, slowly working through one project at the time.  But I digress from the real purpose of this post (sadly, no pictures included).

During the repaint job on my bedroom, I had to spend a night sleeping on my bed pulled out in the center of the room.  It's amazing how different it feels knowing that no side is safe.  When the bed is against the wall, we have this sense of security knowing that our head is protected, that behind is nothing to worry about.  A nice tall wall guarding us, leaving us only with sides and the foot to worry about.  In the center of the room, it is jarring.  Here you are with every side exposed.  It's unnerving.  I laid there,  looking at the fan, feeling somewhat uneasy.  How strange, right?  There I was, in my own bed, in my own room, in my own house.  The only difference was the positioning of my bed, and yet it completely threw me off.

The strangest part, is that even after my bed has been put back against the wall, my room back to its original  set-up, I still wake up with the sensation that my bed is in the center of the room.  I have to completely wake up to reassure myself that the room is back in its original set-up.  Maybe this sensation is my brain trying to come to terms with the other changes that are coming.  The uneasy sensation is the only way my mind can understand how to show that things will be changed around soon.

The interesting part is that even with the uneasiness, the off-kilter sensation, it's not painful or completely unwanted.  It is there, and I acknowledge it, and I it, but it's not so overwhelming that I overreact.  It's a strange sensation, but it certainly isn't killing me.  And I continue on to the next day, moving closer to the next stage of what will become the rest of my life.  And I think I can be okay with it...at least for right now.  Next week might be different as the reality becomes more tangible.