Drug of Choice
My husband and I moved last month. After ten years of condo living, we purchased a single family home. It's quite lovely!
A little history...
Once upon a time, for about 12 years, I helped folks buy and sell homes, as a Realtor. Between the ages of 18-28, I moved ten times. The longest residence was two or three years, which meant some apartments, were mere months. As a transition coach, I occasionally work with clients who have lived in their homes for 30+ years. They've experienced many stages of life and significant personal transitions in one location; our work together sometimes includes a move.
Despite all of my varied experiences, I have to confess, I was surprised by my increased level of stress during the past few months. Yes, yes, I know, it's considered one of the top seven stressors, but come on, I moved 10 times in 10 years for goodness sake. Plus, I was excited once we found our new home, and I hired professional movers (much to the relief of friends who knew me in my 20's). How hard could this one move be?
Then I realized, in a way, this was my first home. When we bought the condo I participated in creating a home. The places I'd lived before were rooms where I stored my stuff. I had no significant attachment to any one place except the house I grew up in, and in that one, I was never fully safe. No matter what I did, as a child, I couldn't create the safety I needed. In retrospect, it wasn't "home" as I've come to know it.
Okay, maybe the stress did make sense, and admittedly, we manifested some additional stressors in our efforts to create the most value in our home. For six weeks our house was under construction preparing it for sale. This included refinishing the floors, which meant moving out of the house with our four cats for several days to a 357 sq. ft. condo that we ALSO had on the market.
Once the work was complete, the house looked dynamite - and after spending several days enjoying it with friends, we moved out again. We had a two week window to get our house under agreement and inspected before our micro-condo would be conveyed to another owner. With cats, clothes, and essentials packed - and leaving the house looking better than ever (rather than the construction zone it was during the floor hiatus) we shoe horned our lives into our cute studio apartment and kept our fingers crossed. Up to this point, I was feeling pretty good. Yes, stress presented itself, and mostly, I felt a deep trust that it would all work out.
Then came the boom. Our home sold in a matter of days, and when the two-week window closed, we suddenly had to find a new place to live with no back up plan. There were no homes on the market that my husband and I agreed upon, and that's about the time I said to myself, "If I enjoyed drinking, I'd be signing myself up for a bunch of cocktails."
Well, I don't drink, but it turns out I did reach out to my drug of choice - chocolate. Despite all of the mindful eating I'd been practicing for over a year, I just wanted something to smooth the edges - something that work, meditation, receiving coaching, and laughing with friends wasn't easing.
I enjoyed the chocolate...until I didn't. So, back to my tools I go. As mentioned in Lightness of Being, I have learned how to be a healthier me - to allow my body to more accurately represent who I am now. It is those practices that I call upon myself to remember, because using the tools creates body memory and good habits, allowing me to live in the now, instead of the old, unconscious patterns.
I wish my humanness hadn't called forth my chocolate cravings for solace, and yet, this is my path. We stumble to be humble, so that we may learn to get up again and learn lessons in the process. I learned, "it's okay to fall." That's an important one for me.
I believe we each have a drug of choice. Be it an addiction to struggle/rage/sadness/or caretaking, a craving for food/drugs/alcohol/or sex, or a pattern of self-bullying/internalizing feelings/ or spinning round and round in the head with the same old story - whatever your drug of choice, I encourage you to be gentle with yourself. Notice, free of judgment, when you reach for the quick fix. Be curious about what's led you there, and know that when you are truly ready, you may choose to change the pattern.
Soon, I'll write about readiness...stay tuned.
With love and gentleness,
Joanne Lutz