Our house is now a home

Settling in a new home is as much of a physical move as mental- our sense of comfort is inwardly consumed from our environment and compartmentalized based on our experiences. More than the character of the neighbourhood and finishes of the encasement, our comfort level is tethered to our psychosocial-climate.

In the midst of what I hoped was the denouement of my health crisis, I was motivated to uproot- a move that propagated in my brain, unable to escape the residual ruination authorized by my cancer diagnoses. My reflection told a story that I didn’t want to see, admittedly body dysmorphic but I couldn’t break free. I was shackled by my memory, crude, malignant and keyless.

Having been blessed by our daughter, I knew that I didn’t want to start her life with such a grey tone and subscribed to the idea that a physical move would jar me from my mental detention. This was not the case…

Don’t get me wrong, as devastating as the capper to our residency was, our pre- demon years were brilliant. Beyond the fact that this was our first real home, here we proved ourselves intrepid- moving Eastside- a stretch for most friends and family but a perfect site to pour our families figurative foundation. This home gave-way to the progression of my career, fitness, relationships, stamina, etcetera- one of the most formative timelines of my life. 

In our time together but specifically the time spent in this home, my wife and I fostered an environment in which we were both motivated to welcome a baby- as confident as two late 20 year young couples could be.

And then she came and our focus shifted. 

As parents, Natasha and I were installed into a new gear, one that was cloaked in her absence and materialized, receptive and welcome by us. The shift was seamless, a smooth transition that moved effortlessly in a premium gearbox with a feather clutch.

Instantly, I knew that in spite of life’s quagmires, I had been recalibrated to focus on her happiness and consequently ensure that I was the best that I could be. In that vein, taking into account my immune compromised position and exposure to getting really fucken sick, we were fortunate enough to leave Marquesa to be watched by her nan (my mother-in law). Moving meant that the the distance gap narrowed, as did our commute, increasing our time spent as a family. This was an invaluable gain that benefitted us in so many respects, therefore, we made the decision to transplant (no pun intended).

It made sense. 

As complex as we are, it’s interesting that in distress our mind is limited to binary decision making, fight or flight. I think that in my situation, it was never a matter of one or the other- both we’re engaged out of necessity. 

If I’m being honest, since the move, I had been in utter contempt of the area, resenting the thing I was fleeing and by extension the new home that we sought to inhabit but more importantly live in. Having been occupied in one way or another over the last year, most of my energy was poured into lamenting. Not over the logistics of the move but whether or not I would regain the same sense of wellbeing that I once had. 

The gearbox gained another gear. Clutch, shift. 

Unlike the variability of my first recovery experience, I would describe my current trajectory as close to course. Though I have had and continue to have challenges, I never expected smooth sailing in turbulent water- especially with waves incited by such a gruesome storm. With that said, it’s important to highlight progress and milk the proverbial teat. I have my good days and bad days, just like you – but I will not allow myself to be restrained by them….anymore. 

I rebooted, withdrew, and shed preconceived notions to release me from the shackles that bind. I found the key.

As my mobility trickles back to my body, my feet are more and more capable each day. The numbness is there but perhaps it will never go away, perhaps this is my souvenir or battle scar from this “despair park”. And so I’m adapting, revisiting the limits of my circumstance and moving forward. In this, I am working on changes to my home, my commitment to its principle – gratifying in every way, shape and form.

I have accepted and paid into my membership of the community, scaling the various streets, sites and sounds. I am appreciative of where I am in all of its pros and vanquishing any perceived con. This gear seems like an evolution of the last and I suspect will foreshadow the expansion of more.

Call it a life-speed transmission- contentment turbo.