To Belong

WORKKIDSSLEEP BELONG
TO BELONG (verb):
TO DISCONNECT (verb)

I headed to meditation class last week as I do every Wednesday, a 45-minute session of switching off and usually falling asleep. Flat on my back with my bolster, blanket and lavender mask.  But the last session gave me more than a dose of self-awareness.

Rhys Leo, our incredible instructor was his usual yoga living, chilled self.  Before we started, he talked with another class member about his week.  He spoke of how he took his Dad to the cinema a few nights before and how he had spent time with his Grandmother.  Rhys told us how much he enjoyed spending time with her, and I commented how lucky he was to still have them both.  As the session started, the silent tears began to fall.

I was in the zone.  I’d worked 12 hours that day, knocked off and come straight to class.  Exhausted from the weeks first heavy 3 days.  I wanted nothing more than to just relax, close my eyes and rest my body and mind.   And even though the class proceedings went as they always do, Rhys talking gently to us with the calming tunes playing low key, I think this was the hardest class I’d done.

BUT WHO AM I REALLY?

It suddenly dawned on me when Rhys was talking of his week with his older family members, that I don’t have any.  Not a new thing, my Mother passed a long time ago and my Grandmother in 2014.  She was the last elder, the last leader of my direct generational chain.

Me and mine

The tears came while I lay peacefully, with nothing but my memories. A padded mask over my eyes prevented the tears from falling, soaking up the emotions.  Thinking about my Gran, my Mother and our times together and remembering when I felt part of something bigger. Remembering when I had someone to watch over me, someone who worried about me, who loved me unconditionally.   Yes, I have my husband and my kids, who I love dearly and vice versa, but he’s not blood.  And they belong to me.  But who do I belong to?

At last week’s class it dawned on me that I don’t actually belong to anyone anymore.  There is no one here in my life right now who made me or who played a part in creating my gene pool.  The people who contributed to the person I am today are gone, and that makes me real sad.  I am no one’s someone, I’m no one’s girl.  When I lay that night on the cold studio floor, I felt alone, scared and lonely. I felt like a young girl.  I think I spent that 45-minute class grieving, not for who I’ve lost, but more so for what I’ve lost.

I MADE MY BED

Being here in Australia away from my brothers, sisters, cousins and aunties also makes it harder.  I miss them all so much, and it’s not always fixable by words on Messenger and FaceTime.   I’m pretty sure if I was home now, I wouldn’t feel this way, distance from those you love and those you are connected to has an impact for sure.

It’s been just under two and a half years since we made the decision to drastically change our lives and move here to the other side of the world, and I’m homesick often. I don’t regret it, life here is great.  Work is way too heavy, and I seriously have to work on the balance, but it was the right move for sure.

I’m a big girl and I’m Welsh which means I should be tough but emotions are my downfall, apparently a sign of weakness.   I miss so much about home, I miss my family, my friends and I will always miss those who have already left me.

There is certainly a disconnect.  A disconnect I feel from not having that security of belonging to someone, like a piece of my identity died when they did.  Something as simple as hearing other people talk about their family set me off, combined with exhaustion from work resulted in me feeling sorry for myself.  But I move on, pull up my big girl pants, live my life and be fulfilled that I have people who belong to me.  Ones I can help build and shape into amazing people, and share all my hopes and dreams with.

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Written by Editor, Rhian Cable
#workkidssleep 

Mum, Wife, Marketing Specialist, Book Worm, Sunrise Junkie and Blogger – Living life every minute.

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