Space

There’s something about rain sprinkling down on a bright summer’s day that reminds me of poetry in motion. It’s oddly magical, the rainbow about to present, the feeling of Summer and Fall having a conversation, the realization that everything is happening all at once. A collision, but softer. The rain isn’t threatening because there’s still sunshine amongst the cloud and it’s warm out. I race to get the cushions inside even though they are barely damp and the clouds are quickly passing by. This whole summer here in London I’ve held onto the heat and the long days like no other. It’s been a tonic to be here with my boys coming and going like normal young lads in their 20’s. It’s all felt oddly normal, and a little normalcy has been well received.

Of late, I’ve been grappling big time with the idea of space and needing to define it both internally and externally. We all manifest stress and anxiety in our bodies and mine hits my chest almost immediately. A recent Human Design reading (only recently introduced to) signified so much of what I already knew about myself, along with some true illuminations. I’m sitting with this new lens not quite sure how I feel about it, and more to the point, where the path of least resistance really takes me. Ingesting other’s energy is something that happens to me unconsciously; my trouble is learning how not to store it. It was perhaps fateful for me to be based in London post fire - away from the collective trauma. Being this far away remains hard on the one hand, missing my family and dear friends immensely, but equally a different version of life presents itself daily here so imagining moving on is always right there, just in front of me, within reach; the other life I’ve lived for 30 years.

This whole stage is confusing at best. When I close my eyes at night, I still picture myself in my bedroom in the Palisades, listening out for the owls that lived in the nearby trees ping-ponging their late night conversation over the house; smelling the faint salt spray of the Pacific through our bedroom door. That bed was so comfy, too. Two double-sized mattresses bolted together disguised as an enormous one, each with their own duvet hidden under the bedsheet so the tug-of-war competition didn’t wake us up in the middle of the night. Good tip btw. I might be a lot smaller than my husband, but when it comes to getting a good night’s sleep, I can be a fierce competitor and the duvet wars are real!

A recent trip to New York trying to imagine what option A might look like left us one step closer to activating a plan. And that was when the idea of defining a new space truly escalated from theory into practice. We got an agent, saw a property and pictured ourselves around a new kitchen table. All of my boys came to see it and everyone had the same strange feeling of excitement for something totally different for our family. Not yet a rebuild, and I don’t like the word replacement, even though that is exactly what the insurance company calls it. For me the idea is not to replace what is gone but to create a whole new reality. It’s the same sentiment as when people innocently questioned why I didn’t simply go out and replace my belongings instead of wear the same damn sweats and trainers every single day for weeks! Slight semantics, I know. But you’re not wanting to replace what was ripped away. Besides, it’s impossible. But in the case of creating a new space to live in, the correct phrasing helps describe what you are trying to do: transform the chat chat chat in your head into a tangible plan of action. It’s not about replacing something lost but discovering something new. That’s the step I’m trying to take. As my mom says, live your life now, Jennifer, stop waiting. I know she’s serious when she calls me Jennifer.

With summer coming to a close, a new book idea to delve into and a family still scattered around the globe but living full lives, I remember the picture hung in my parent’s house with the quote, ‘Today is the first day of the rest of your life’ and consciously make myself look forward. I swear, as I write this, a rainbow is straight in front of me and a dark cloud looms behind. If that ain’t a sign, I don’t know what is:)