How did we get here?
I was struck with some surprise the other day that it’s midway through November already, meaning we’re almost at the end of the year, somehow. It all feels like a surprise, as if I’ve traveled through time and been deposited here without knowing it. Didn’t fall just start? Wasn’t it the end of summer just a couple of weeks ago?
Perhaps it’s age, or simply the odd near-singularity effect of 2019 in general that seems to feel as if time has collapsed in upon itself. Certainly, it feels like everything since… early September, maybe, has fallen together, the days filled with things and emotions and stuff that cascaded into each other. At one point, I was so busy (and, for a brief period, so sick) that I went six weeks between therapy appointments; when I returned, I spent the first session back just listing what had happened like a checklist, just to catch her up. She looked at me with an expression of, there’s more? the entire time.
And so, September — pet trauma, work stress, visitors to the house — became October — work trips, sickness, house cleaning and working to impress the landlords so we get to stay and not move — became November and everything blurs together. My old mindset of considering new months as starting points disappeared because there was neither time nor perspective to think of things that way, anymore. Everything kept happening. Everything still keeps happening.
And now we’re here. Fall has, belatedly, taken hold and things are slowing down. I am catching my breath and finding the pockets of calm and peace necessary to me, and still, wondering how we got here without noticing. In the dark mornings and evenings outside the windows, I hope to find answers and quiet to fill the gaps.