When is it that we are not in flux? When can we truly say that today is a day that is the same as another? In life, we live with death and loss, and with death, we live new lives. With each death we experience -- death of a loved one, death of a friend, even "death" in other terms (such as "loss" instead of absolute end of life) -- with each of these occurrences our lives are created anew, whether we like it, or ask for it, or even know it.
To know that loss is something I experience, to identify it and to acknowledge it as a piece of my life, is a new phenomenon to me. Loss -- loss of identity, loss of people, loss of place, loss of familiarity are each commonplace to me, though I did not recognize this until quite recently. Some of this loss is voluntary, and a lot of it is not. With all of this loss, however, there comes great opportunity for gain. Though these losses are not true voids in my life -- having lost my uncle just over a year ago has not created a vacancy that can be filled. Rather, my loss has created, or has begun to create, a new life in me -- a life in living with his death, and his absence, and all of the circumstances surrounding the suddenness of it.
Speaking of opportunity for gain, I think of opportunity for new relationships, strengthening of old ones, and the importance both kinds have when living in transition, as I am currently. Presently, I am in flux.
I am a person who, six months ago, moved to a city I had never visited and where I knew no one. I seemingly immediately found work (fortunately) and a band (also, fortunately), both of which occupied my time while I also prepared to begin an internship in music therapy. In this internship, where I have been working for three months now, I work with people in hospice, people who have cancer, people in inpatient care, people who have Parkinson's Disease and related movement disorders, and people who have eating disorders. I work the internship 40 to 45 hours a week, I work at a restaurant (the work I found soon after having moved here) about 16 hours a week, I practice and do gigs with the band between three and six hours a week, and I have a perfectgreatawesome boyfriend (whom I met here, too, soon after having moved here), with whom I like to and try to spend most of the remaining time in the week.
I have trouble finding calm. My hope is that writing about my experiences, in general and maybe specific ways, will help me find such a thing.
Thanks for reading.