Five months into a forced stillness. And I’m finally catching up… while turning into my mom. But I don’t mind it, or do I?
Drinking, partying with big groups of people, and staying out too late — will I ever do that again? I don’t know. Maybe I reached the age when you’re not that interested? Or do you ever reach it? Do you ever get wise enough to stop ruining things for yourself? Stop arguing about things that don’t really matter? Stop running. In a society that thrives on your self-doubt… I think not.
So, yes, I guess that I’m slowly turning into my mom. My dearest little mommy. I’m not that interested in going into the mix any longer. Maybe she knew the secret of life all along? She knew that you should keep animals close to your home. That you should have plants that bring you fruits. She knew to always keep your pantry stocked in case of an emergency. I only did it because my grandma taught me that you always have to have something sweet to offer your guests. (I don’t really like ice cream or sweets, so I give my guests beer and chips. But hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?)
I don’t know where all of this is going. I guess my conclusion is that I’ve enjoyed being still. I finally got time to do the things I pushed away. Stop drinking being one. Going to therapy another. I’ve re-read all the books I only speed-read before. I now have a rooftop garden and I have a cat. I mean, today I even baked a rhubarb pie. Carefully and lovingly making the crust, peeling rhubarbs the way I’ve seen the women in my family do it, and it tasted like home. A little bit of shame blossomed up. I never took the time to learn how to peel things, because I only wanted to play.
I never took the time because I only wanted to play. I wanted to disco, I wanted to rage, I wanted to travel the world and see and do everything no woman before me got the chance to do. And boy, have I played. Running into the unknown with full-speed for years and years on end. Pushing away my sensitivity because that’s not appreciated when you want to succeed. But I'm now learning. I’m learning the finer things of stillness and peeling things off. Instead of partying, we’re now slow dancing in the kitchen. Re-learning and appreciating home. It’s been a while since we took the time. It’s been a while, but I can already see the first blossoms.
And I would be lying if I said that it has been easy catching up. I’ve been running for a long time. Nine years to be exact. From what and to where I’ve yet to discover. But I guess I’ll keep on finding the silver lining until then. And, well, turning more and more into my mother.