I can feel I’m in something of a different space these days. Feeling different tugs and a different sort of stability. The tugs are… odd.
My partner and I spent two hours with a couples therapist on Friday, something we’d been looking forward to for quite a while. Our “2%” of tangling and pushing eachother’s buttons has been plaguing us for, well, years. The therapist came highly recommended, practices an approach called emotionally focused therapy, and has a background in imago therapy which I’ve also been intrigued by for a long time. The session was really interesting and productive for both of us. She gave us a few tools (including recommending… Emotionally Focused Therapy for Dummies!). We felt hopeful.
And afterwards all I wanted was a beer.
The night before I had had one of those drinking dreams where I realized on the second beer that I was drinking. There wasn’t a whole lot of emotion wrapped up in the dream, fortunately, but boy was I thrilled to wake up and realize I wasn’t actually back on day 1. But it did leave me with a sensation of drinking, which (I don’t have to tell you this) is Not Helpful.
So I was surprised. My body/mind was generating unfamiliar stuff and it included wanting the damn beer. After my partner and I talked for a few minutes in the car after the appointment, I headed off to a big juried craft fair for some long-anticipated fun. I spent a couple of hours alone wandering up and down the aisles, taking in the riches of other people’s creativity. Bright-colored weavings, endless walls of earrings made of silver and stones and wool (yeah, wool), strange constructions by woodworkers that strike me as gaudy, potters’ cups and bowls and vases. (And the alcohol, I tell you. There were a couple of beer stands and some sort of liquor tasting room. You could smell the alcohol rising into the air. I sort of enjoyed it, meandering past these places and watching them like some sort of being from outer space.)
I came upon a glass blower who makes gorgeous, unexpected cups and vases. I’ve been a ceramic mugs person for 20 years but am lately drawn to glass. (My cream soda always goes in that blue glass.) My sobriety wanted a new glass. My funkiness wanted to be reflected in glass, in a cupped container that would hold the daily afternoon fizzy drink of choice. (Speaking of, I have figured out how to add hoppiness to NA beer!)
We bought the most beautiful one. It’s moody. It has cold lines, clear cold glass, gray-brown-blue sections that each reflect the weather of a different day. Some of my new moods will find the swirls familiar. You can see through some parts and can’t see through others. It’s bottomless.
Beneath the new tugs and mild discomforts I have a sense of calm and stability. I can hardly see it and I don’t want to go charging toward it, I don’t want to analyze it, but I’m aware that it’s there. It could be simply a response in my body to the beginnings of green growth outside. It’s been a long (and extremely interesting) winter. It could be my system finding its way to a more settled place.
Here we are, and on we go.