2020. Just saying the year itself will evoke lots of eye rolls, sighs and tears.
The relentless cycle of loss and uncertainty, combined with the jarring reality of broken routines has been enough to the most stoic warrior over the edge. Had someone told me in January of 2020 the amount of loss I was going into, I would have undoubtedly pressed the pause button on some things. For one, I would have been more intentional with my time. I would have done more with my mother, instead of treating her as a prop in my long-running stage play called "My Life". It was a great show at the time, playing to limited audiences of various purpose and background. I even had evolving themes and plot lines that unknowingly allowed the audience interaction, even at my own peril. The one running gag was instead of being the main character by intermission I found myself playing a supporting role in my own life. I allowed the things in my life to take precedence over the people.
So 2020 happened. The P Word. We found ourselves in a precarious position. Now instead of voluntarily staying in, we had to choose. Possible death and/or sickness from venturing out into the world or confining ourselves to the one safe space we created. I remember spending Christmas and New Year's Day in my mother's hospital room asking her what she wanted the most. This was a woman who was confined to a hospital bed and given a literal death sentence, but all she truly wished for was to be home. Home was her happy place.
I remember spending hours at work knowing that at the end of my hectic day, returning home was the only reward that held value to me. Now as I sit in the same home I longed to return to, I am forced to reconcile the fact that although I got my wish it came at a cost.
I spent more time working to acquire this home than I did working on the relationships that dwelled within its walls.
If 2020 has done nothing else, it has allowed me to take inventory within myself. I literally ran myself into the ground pursuing things that would have been there anyway. Sadly the most important people in my life were overlooked, myself included.
It was at this realization that the tiny threads that held me together began to unravel. They ultimately fell apart and allowed me to see myself raw and exposed.
I was mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted and the only way I could repair myself was to drop the curtain on the show that I was performing in.
My final act.
I now find myself reinventing the mental picture of success, and essentially realizing that the home that I struggled so hard to build and reside in wasn't brick and glass. It was the person I fashioned myself to be and it was a facade.
When was the last time you looked into what you are built on and examined what you are built of?
You may in fact find yourself having to dismantle the very "home" that you have been living in to finally expose the foundation you stand on.
Are you ready to become undone?