Adjustments

I was recently asked by a friend how I was holding up.

I didn't know how to answer the question. Not because it was difficult to say how I was doing, but because it implied that I might not be doing well.

Point in fact, the best time of my life has been the recent months.

I get up in the morning when the light streams through my window, painting the wall in golden light. Often as not, there's a particular furball curled up next to my chest, purring softly. I get up, clean up, do my morning chores, then go out to the back pasture to practice my archery.

I was given a number of arrows for my birthday - six carbon-fiber flights with target tips, the exact proper length. I take them from their corner, string up my laminate longbow, and head out to fire no fewer than three rounds of flights into the hay-bale set up for expressly this purpose. Then, arms sore and achy, I gather everything up, unstring my bow, and come back in to clean them all off and put them away. Then I sit down for guitar practice.

The calluses on my fingers are forming, if slowly. I've learned three major chords so far, though "learned" is putting it kindly. If I make a funny face and think hard enough, I can remember how I'm supposed to make the fingers sit on the strings. Dad taught me a song ("song" is again a generous term) that involves all three chords, so I can feel accomplished. Somewhat. It's halting, it's clumsy, it's awkward... but it's music. Then, when my fingers wont take it anymore, I get down to the real exercise.

I nabbed a Brazilian Dance workout DVD with the Amazon.com gift card I got for my birthday, along with a Yoga DVD. I do the makulale-inspired workout, then follow it up with a cooldown stretch of Yoga for fifteen minutes. My spine in particular appreciates this part. It's tough, but I feel so much better afterwards.

After that, the rest of the day kicks in. I might take the dogs out for a run, outpacing them on the bicycle to really run them out. Or I might just grab the ball-thrower and put them through their paces in the pasture. If there's work around the house that needs doing, I'm on it without complaint. Dad might draft me into some construction work, ripping up the deck or getting the posts ready for a new railing. Mom might have me take care of some gardening, or need a hand making some epic meal. I volunteer to chop wood, build fires, stack kindling, and walk to the mailbox down the road. I run errands in town, and I play video games on the computer. I make friends and flirt and have fun. I meditate on the I-Ching wrapped in a Chief Joseph robe. I listen to the chorus of the thousands of frogs, I pick out the stars from the blanket of twinkling lights, and I scan the stream for the Steelhead salmon that spawn there.

... how am I "holding up"?

Yeah, okay. I did have my fiancé tell me he wasn't going to keep going. After six years (almost to the day), he called it quits, leaving me completely adrift. I had no job, no prospects, and no reason to stay... even if I could have afforded to. Before I knew what was happening, my family swooped in like an eagle after a chinook, and carried me back to the nest. And here between the redwoods and the open sea have I found myself, hiding all along.

I never had depression, apparently. They're saying now that it was Chronic Anxiety all along, which was why the meds never worked properly. The instant the relationship was over, the attacks stopped. No more emotional episodes. Terrible as it sounds, I feel... free. The trickle down I've heard has been that he's doing about the same. Perhaps everyone was right, maybe the relationship was over long ago, and neither of us were willing to admit it. After all, I'm a Capricorn, and he an Aries. And I come from a long line of stubborn women.

So - how I'm "holding up"? It's the wrong question. The question is how I'm doing. And the answer is "I'm thriving". I'm about to start a new job, and I'm getting my school applications all squared away, and I'm making new friends. I'll be moving again soon, but this time, it will be where *I* want to go, and it will be for myself.