Barb: Bathrobes and PJ’s
Bathrobes and PJ’s are my havens in cloth. Warm, accepting, and free of responsibility, they are also free of ironing and timetables. Flannel doesn’t care about day jobs or mid life crises. I am home savoring the delicious quiet and saddened by my waning freedom. There is currently no one I have to play with or take to the potty. I can nap undisturbed if I wish. I am pregnant and have not embraced the joyous anticipation that many feel. A part of me wonders, ‘What’s wrong with me?’ This is no different from any of my other 39 years, only the circumstances have changed. Perhaps life has proved too precarious these days to think beyond today.
The relief of not having to leave my house is palpable. A dear friend suggested that the reason I’ve been feeling an urge to hide was because I felt as though I had been attacked. Losing my job, my father, and a baby made functioning as normal like walking through thick muck. It was too much for the space of eighteen months.
Like swamp gas bubbles on the surface of my brain, I fight the flare ups. Your new job is a nightmare, how are you going to fix it? Are you sure you’re safe? What if you get robbed? This house isn’t ready for a baby, when are you going to get started? ‘DOES THIS SERVE YOU?’ asks a voice, finally: Reason. I try to focus on what’s in front of me right now. Why is it such a struggle to remain uncluttered? Eat your elephant one bite at a time, cut yourself some slack, I tell myself. Giving my brain the day off seems to be yet another lofty goal.
There are other havens. Sometimes it takes the physical embrace of my spouse to squeeze out the chattering in my head. Other times it takes the sound of rain, or the ocean, or even the calm of a warm shower to help. I escape my committed profession and dip my toes into writing. There is unquestioning comfort the moment pencil touches paper. I am far from Hemmingway but much closer to home in this pursuit than my daily grind.
I bought oil from a yoga center I visited. I hope the scent will remind me of a place where I felt peace wrap around me such that even my frightened self could not deny it happened. To wear this serenity like a robe of armor everywhere, that is my dream. I wonder how I can hang on to the feeling of calm when I have to face my external reality.
I am forced to live in the now, to enjoy the quiet while I have it. This “now” which forces the catastrophising beasties at bay, quelling the daymares of what could happen if I just leave my house. This is my respite, and the warm, fuzzy embrace of the flannel lets me finally calm down. The beasties can wait another day. I am no longer in a bad job, no longer frightened of the changes coming, and no longer frightened of attack. Right here, right now I am warm, safe, and home.
3 comments
Comments feed for this article
April 28, 2008 at 7:42 pm
Judy Safford
“I hope the scent will remind me of a place where I felt peace wrap around me such that even my frightened self could not deny it happened.”
I love the “peace wrap around me” and the thought that “even the frightened self could not deny it happened ” is very powerful.
“quelling the daymares” - I love it.
” warm, fuzzy embrace of the flannel” a sweet picture.
April 29, 2008 at 8:21 pm
seaglassgirl
Barb,
“PJ’s are my havens in cloth” makes me feel the warmth and what you mean.
“Flannel doesn’t care about day jobs or mid life crises.” Love this and it’s happy and sad at the same time.
“The relief of not having to leave my house is palpable.”
The way you capture the assault of the life experiences you’ve faced is felt.
You do a nice job of bringing us in and out of your interior life and these decriptions are great:
“There are other havens. Sometimes it takes the physical embrace of my spouse to squeeze out the chattering in my head. Other times it takes the sound of rain, or the ocean, or even the calm of a warm shower to help. I escape my committed profession and dip my toes into writing.”
I like the ending as well and it promises hope that soon, when ready, the author will carry that sense of home out into the world.
Cissy
May 27, 2008 at 10:34 pm
Mary Agnes
I embrace the opening line of bathrobes and pj’s being your “havens in cloth.” You anthropomorphize it nicely saying “Flannel doesn’t care about day jobs or mid life crises.” You have started to weave a tale for us. As you write, you are truly weaving a “haven in cloth.”
Then we get startled by your story. Losing a job, father, and baby in 18 months? Oh, my. No wonder your mind is screaming at you with all that internal dialog. (And I do relate to the struggle to remain uncluttered.)
I like the way the piece settles at the end into the sensuality of now, and I am comforted by your ending line “right now I am warm, safe, and home.” Breathe—and write more.