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I have begun turning toward the future and that means I have begun the preparations for my departure from my beloved Land of the Midnight Sun and my family. Today I sent a shout out to my California colleagues, friends, schoolmates, and acquaintances, asking them to keep me in mind should they hear of an upcoming rental. What that means is that I am thinking of my move from here to there and where I will live once I am there. Yes, I am turning, slowly, but turning nonetheless toward my departure and toward my arrival, from my summer connections to my upcoming adventures.
Where will I live? Will my car, Harvey, be in one piece? Has he survived his hot days on the street? Are our belongings intact? and if they did survive their summer in storage, will they be intact upon delivery? Will I survive my move in one piece?
Ahhh, all of these questions and many more will be answered. In their own way, the answers and outcomes will be revealed. with time.
My days continue to be filled with flashcards, practice exams, counting of days remaining to savor each and every moment with friends and family, eating delicious meals, watching bits and pieces of the Democratic convention, creating a blanket for my daughter’s craft business, walks, laughter, tears, and did I mention studying?
Plans for tomorrow, next week, next month. None of it happening right this very moment. For in this moment, I sit still (except for my typing fingers) and gaze out my north facing window onto the still very green trees while sounds of a small airplane drone above me. Another grey and rain showery day of the Alaskan summer.
Breathe. Inhale Exhale. This is my life. not in the fast lane.
My famdamily and I are fixing (or in the Southern vernacular of my adoptive mother, we’re fixin’) to put on a Garage Sale (or in the famdamily vernacular, GS) tomorrow. The place where wonders to all humanity will go for bargain basement or driveway prices is my daughter’s home. The SO and my sister will be taking my grandkiddos on their own Saturday GS’ing adventure while my daughter and I hopefully rake in the big bucks while passing on time-to-go-live-with-someone-else items.
As you might imagine, we have a stash of must-goes, some accumulated from what initially seemed like Wonderful GS finds of our very own. What? You don’t want that beautiful zebra lamp made out of wood with a little green shade? No, I don’t. It seemed like a really good idea last Saturday. I even pictured it sitting on our double sink along side the beach bum Hippo (from yet another GS). But you know what? The zebra lamp was an idea gone bad. wrong. Not so much the lamp, it’s actually very cute, some might say kitschy. Nonetheless, the zebra does not want or need to join this famdamily. So into the GS it will go.
All of our items, some loved more than others, are priced to go. So wish us luck in passing on some very desirable, some one-of-a-kind, other not so much in the cute department, items. Rain is not in the forecast so we’re already ahead of the curve. or put another way, we’re cooking with gas now. or said differently, we’re happy as a clam right before the shovel hits its shell. Not really on the last saying cuz I made that one up, but I think you may receive my meaning. Just wish us luck with raking in the dough, ‘k?
The Canadian geese and their baby goslings who are as big as their feathered parents have begun their practice runs out of here. They will soon be headed south in their V-formations, taking turns being the leader, taking the brunt of the wind and currents.
My town is big enough to try and rid themselves of these beautiful birds because they poop, a lot. They also have been accused of being hazards near the airports. The gall of these airbourne beauties to fly in the same sky as manmade airplanes! So the human powers that be have tried all sorts of ridding the town of the geese, without pissing too many of the nature lover’s of, tactics. I can guarantee you that we nature lovers are not the majority. Most local golfers, airplane occupants, and city park users are applauding the efforts to make the feathered poopers go elsewhere. Anywhere elsewhere, as in passing onto the other side (as in dead) or by cutting down their populations by robbing their nests of their eggs.
But a few of the hearty geese have continued to summer over hereabouts and I am luckier for their presence. But not for much longer as the geese and I will be soon winging our ways south. South to warmer climes. South to new adventures. Some under their own wing power and others (I won’t say who) will be flying high above the dirt and water, on our butts. Either way, we’re headed south, soon.
This morning when I peeked my eyes open from underneath my eyelids, I realized immediately, with great pleasure I might add, that this was the best I had felt in days. Woohooo! and yay! with all of this lint in the belly button snuffling I have been doing of late, it’s a wonder that I haven’t ungumptioned myself into a unclimbable out-of-hole or dug my way to the other side of the Earth (but that might have taken more energy than I could/can muster).
What a difference a good night’s rest can make! Couple that with the day I spent with grandkiddos yesterday and I think the Universe mixed up a recipe for a return-to-a-better-place for yours truly. I spent some individual time with each of my three grandbabies yesterday and they were such enjoybable company. Funny, imaginative, full of news, questions, and fancy. Each of the children are full of energy and love to run and play and be out-of-doors, which pleases me to no end.
The children helped me move my body and walk about with them even when my interior bring-me-down-and-keep-me-there-voice was saying, quite adamantly, no damnit, I do not want to take a walk. But walk we did and I am better off for the effort, the fresh air, and occasional sunshine that beamed down on us.
So here’s hoping that I can keep the ball rolling in this more upbeat direction and that I can return to studying and to life in general with more pep in my footsteps.
The sun is shining through the leaves and in through my east facing window, warming my arm while I sit and type this post. I see white wispy clouds on the face of the light blue sky through the open green patches of the trees, looking out my north window. And just like that, the warmth and the sun move on, leaving the room a bit cooler.
That’s the nature of sunlight, clouds, mornings, and days. Change. Shifting of patterns. Moods that go up and down and down some more. and then when all seems darkest (like right before the dawn or some such saying) the dappled light and warmth return and the emotional thermometer rises. Mercurial in their fluidity, emotions.
Yesterday there was the autumn like feel to the air. Right on time really. After all, it is is August in the Soon To Be Frozen Again Last Frontier. But for today, the sun retains its power of heat and has chosen to bathe us, intermittently, with its golden glow.
Today. Sun. Warmth. Renewing my energies.
Prayer to Self ~ Self, please do not let me down now. Don’t give up just because you can. Call upon the wind and her companions, nature’s forces, life givers and takers. Call upon your interior knowing and wisdom. Remember, this too shall pass. Everything always does; pass, that is. Nothing stays constant. not pain. not misery. nor happiness of heart. all emotions. all transitory in nature.
Self, there are goals ahead, some so close you are alomst touching the brass ring. Other goals yet too far, around the bend, that you have yet to imagine or conjure in your mind’s eye, and yet they await you. You have gifts to share, wisdom to impart, lessons to learn ~ again, and seemingly again. Yes, you self, no one else is listening. These words are for you, for your heart. So hearken, reach above you, dip down low to retrieve. Hope. Guidance. Connection. Re-invigoration. Re-birth.
Prayer to Self. Please listen.
to be sad. It’s sort of like when is it convenient to be sick? or which sense would you give up if you had to choose between seeing or hearing? or less dramatically, which would you rather have, great food service or out-of-this-world food?
I guess the answer to when is it okay to be sad, is today. for me that is. The reasons or the justification don’t really matter. After all, I am not a witness in a court of law. I am just a woman with a weeping heart. I should know by now (after all, I am at the wise age of 51), to just give myself over to this heavy wave of grief that rolls in about this time of year, each year. Sometimes the waves arrive in eddies, sometimes they pummel me immediately with their fierce-ness, and sometimes they form pools of quick sand, that wait patiently for my feet to find their way to their domain.
This month of August has historically marked deaths and transitions, some chosen and other passages thrust upon me. I believe this is the month or time of year that I was separated from my first mother. I sense that this separation was not of my choosing. My adoptive father died this month as did my beloved dog companion. Although their deaths or passings, as some refer to death, occurred many years ago, the grief process is not confined to the six month period that Western societies grudgingly assign the survivors, the ones left behind, to mourn their loss.
I will write in more depth about these passings and their meanings, later. For now, I am sad. I read sad books so I can legitimately sit and cry without explanation. I seek solitude so I do not have to put on a happy face when my heart is breaking. I journey on the currents of my grief and sorrow. Based on the past, I understand that the grief will ease up, the waves will become ripples, and I will drift onto a safe and sturdier footing ~ in time.
here in this little town in the Majority of the Year Frozen North Land. Yes, something happened either when I was absent or was not paying attention. And this something is worth noticing and noting and for this blogger, celebrating. ‘Cuz you see, there are more people of color living here than there used to be. Yes! I kid you not. There are more brown skinned folk of every hue and gradation walking about on the coastal trails, the sidewalks, the streets. and guess what else? There are also more brown skinned folk indoors too ~ shopping in the malls, eating in restaurants, reading at the library.
Now before you give me a “D” on being observant, please remember dear reader, that I have been studiously studying, as in nose to the bookstone most of the summer, which means that I have not gotten out much. Also, for the past five years when I have lived here for any length of time, that I have had the definitely widely diverse population of the San Francisco and Bay area to contrast our little town’s demographic group. and that, people, is like a night and day comparison in too many ways to begin to count much less go into at any length, although I guess could expound on the differences in another post.
But I am keeping this particular post topic streamlined and focused. Focused on my new realization that there are more brown skinned people here in town. Woohoo!! To get the huge-ness of what I talk about, one must apprehend that not so many years ago (as in five), there weren’t that many of us brown skinned clans to be seen, indoors or outdoors, in this little Last Frontier town. I have not yet, but plan to, see what the newest census numbers have to say but really do not need to consult such a reference as I am heavy on the observational end of studies.
I would like to say that I came upon my own ah-ha moment of understanding that there are more people of color living here but that would not be entirely true. My ah-ha moment was primed by my logically pragmatic and less-emotional-than-myself friend when I was bemoaning my waffling on where to put down roots. During this conversation, I was decrying the fact of our mostly white homogenous state and this friend was quick to point out that there was much more diversity of race now than when I moved south. I think I took her point with a grain of salt, remembering how my white friends seem to feel that one person of color among 1,000 white people, creates diversity.
But then a little while after that dinner, I visited with another friend and was issuing forth the same complaints and whines (I guess I’m lucky to have friends who put up with a whiner) about my where-to-live conundrum. And this friend, who is brown-skinned like me, quickly told me that things have changed here in the Land of the Midnight Sun and gave me several examples. By this time there had been enough time between my California experience of everyday lots of diversity in population to my little town Alaska life, and I was able to slap my forehead and proclaim ~ Wow! There are more folks of color hereabouts. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelu-u-jah-jah!
So what does this more racially diverse population mean to me? Well let me list some of the ways ~ added comfortability, a stronger sense of community, a sigh of relief to not be the only customer of color in a busy restaurant, and a growing sense of hope that I could build a clinical practice here and actually work with a diverse clientele. and those are the perks that come popcorning to the surface without any prodding or even need of a flashcard.
along in the study pool while firmly anchored with a ton or two of flashcards. Alternating between feeling the blessings of a summer to do such studying and make such a mass of study aids and whining, internally mostly, about not getting to play more. In other words, just being me.
Trying to let go of the blogging should’s, you should only post interesting, thought provoking, or funny and interesting diddies. Sorry folks, I can’t seem to muster up any of the above descriptors and yet I want to, am compelled to, am drawn to write and post on my little blog. So I do what some writers dictate other would-be writers to do, write about something you know, which at this moment is studying for the EPPP.
And, oh yes, there is the small matter of figuring out where to put down more permanent roots. and, oh yeah, my SO has now decided to try and figure out what he wants to be when he grows up. Dang. Neither one of us has a clue. I could say we’re in trouble now, but really nothing has changed. We’re just two drifters who anchor ourselves with various and varying responsibilities and/or temporary goals.
You know some writers encourage would-be writers to write about stuff they do not know about with the only cavaet being, to write. This morning I am following that advice, sage or not, it’s my compass for today. and the stuff that I don’t know is much bigger than the stuff that’s on my multitude of flashcards.
