When I get stuck, writing helps me get in touch with those thoughts that lie just under the surface. It moves my energy to simply let the words come.

For the last few days, the push I’ve been feeling for weeks to gather up and get rid of some of Joseph’s things seemed to disappear.
I would sometimes wonder about the forcing function behind getting rid of things; what was going on when I gave away his exercise bike or clothes, or sold Joseph’s car,?  And then, when all of a sudden (so it seemed), the energy to do so stalled, what was this is about?

I do believe there’s something called “magical thinking.”  Something that happens when someone close to you dies and you can’t really process all that it means. It’s a phenomena that Joan Didion wrote so well about.  For me, I think the running out of steam had to do with these magical, under the surface, not necessarily rational, thoughts:

If I get rid of things, it will be over. — “it “being the loss; the wanting to know what or who’ll be left….
 If I don’t get rid of things, I won’t have to face it. — “it” being the vacuum; what feels like the looming need to rebuild my life….

I know both statements are wishful thinking.  I know “it” won’t be over and I know I’ll have to face whatever comes.  This morning I just cried.

But bringing to consciousness what was lurking in the background does shift my energy, at least for now. The feelings, challenges, unanswered questions remain.   But I trust the next steps will all unfold in their own time.  ☺️