Break up.  That’s what the spring thaw in the Far North Land is often called.  Break up.  These two words encompass everything from the literal breaking up of sheets of thick ice to the gradual thawing of the mountains of dirty snow to the constant dripping of icicles from snow laden rooftops.

And then there is the gradual thaw or re-awakening of sun starved spirits.  In my case, not so much a break up as a slow unfurling of spirit shriveled & curled tight against the frigid temperature & darkness.  An audible sigh escapes my lips as I dare take in deep breaths of spring air without fear of frostbiting my lungs.  A turned up face to the blue sky & light that now stretches well into the evening hours.

Every spring finds me tripping on gratitude for having survived another winter.  A heart’s thanksgiving that the gradual thaw is progressing & taking me along for the ride.

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Sometimes when I pray, I wonder who or what is listening to my words whether said silently or aloud.  Where do they go?  These words.  My words.  Do the words arrive to the intended recipient or are they sometimes returned to sender in an empty envelope?

Garth Brooks sings that some of ‘life’s greatest gifts’ are Unanswered Prayers.  Meaning, I suppose, that another entity, in Garth’s case, God, knows better than humans.  I don’t know.

I do know that I pray regularly.  Having turned my back on organized religion moons ago, I continue to pledge allegiance to a spirituality which runs deep in my core or soul some might say.  I turn to this faith or trust in something bigger than myself frequently & consistently.  The fact that there’s a chance my prayers go no where, are undelivered to the correct address or denied out of hand, does not seem to stop my returning to this well of faith that someone    something is listening, receiving, hearing, considering my words    my meaning.

Prayer is a cornerstone of my life.  An anchor.  A comfort.  A strength.  A connection.  A touchstone.  A conduit to the all-things-are-possible, if I believe.

So whether my words are, indeed, unanswered   unheard  denied out-of-hand or temporarily lost in translation   sometimes makes no difference.  At least in the overall scheme of life.  Mine.

The benefits I receive daily   the solace & needed anchor that keeps me from being continually adrift in a too large an ocean of too-much, is worth any angst or temporary lapses in faith.

Peace be in my heart on this most sunny morning, I pray.

While perusing Facebook (FB) this morning, I read an entry titled Things I Was Convinced Would Change My Whole Life — But Didn’t. Curiosity. Mine. Hooked. Immediately. The FB author’s list also included things that did change their life. Thoughts. Mine. Whirring.

My list is relatively short, for now, but in the excitement of the moment I have no patience for delayed gratification to achieve a perfect selection. So here goes (in no specific order)…

Did Not Change

  • psychic readings ~ not one step closer to discovering my birth family origins or a myriad of other important-to-me stuff; a big step closer to being financially poorer
  • tea leaf reading ~ no second child has yet appeared
  • cabbage soup diet ~ just say ‘no thank you’ or just plain ‘no’
  • running as a sport ~ been there, done that & cannot remember why exactly
  • black leather jacket ~ maybe the leather wasn’t ‘buttery’ enough
  • years long search for birth family ~ nada
  • solo art exhibit ~ momentary rush, only

Did Change

  • down comforter ~ warmth as light as a feather (pun intended)
  • stopping smoking cigarettes ~ huge positive change
  • my daughter ~ no need to say more
  • writing memoir ~ although unpublished (yet), process clarified & aided healing
  • Annie Rosa Lee Dog ~ life changing, for sure; taught me joy
  • primary relationships ~ at least two, maybe three, truly altered my life’s course; okay maybe four
  • earning doctoral degree ~ better late than never

So, there you have it, my lists.  At least for now.  Something tells me that I will be pondering & adding for a while.

Tag.

You’re It.  Lists, please.

2015.

I’ve been away, elsewhere and not here since 2015.  Or the last time I was here, the calendar year was 2015.

And now I must re-familiarize myself on how to even post an entry.  Learn all of the new fancy bells & whistles of the blogging world.  Who am I kidding?  The most I will probably do is figure out how to add an entry.  At least for now, unless I re-commit to daily (or almost) posts.

While being not here for the past two years I have been a busy bee & much living & multiple adventures have washed under the proverbial bridge or down the river & multiple new moons have transitioned to full ones.  The most significant changes & life events have been moving out of state & then back again within a 12-month cycle.  Beginning a new job, accepting a promotion & then immediately resigning from said promotion within a month & returning to the ‘home’ state.  Within that 12-month period, I also lived in three different rentals, committed to the last rental & began putting down roots.  Literally.  Succulents were purchased, repotted & ultimately re-homed.  Furniture & home furnishings bought & assembled as needed & within three months, released.

Yes.  The Big Purge of Material Possessions took place, AGAIN.

Another very long Road Trip happened, AGAIN.

Reason?

My daughter’s medical emergency.  She needed her mama.  My daughter needed me.  And so…

And seven months later, I remain a virtual stranger in familiar surroundings & homeless to boot.  Not in the literal sense of the word I suppose as I have had a roof over my head & even my own bathroom as I have been existing (aka living) in my ex-partner’s whom I am still legally married to, condo. I have not worked or earned any money for the past seven+ months. My biggest accomplishment has been surviving the last seven+ months.

Huge. This accomplishment. Very large. Being still alive. Humongous. Weathering grief, winter’s frigid darkness.

Today I can believe spring has arrived or at the very least is well on its way. I can believe that Old Man Winter cannot & most importantly, will not, last forever. Today the return from a long long hibernation continues, fueled by renewed energy & long daylight hours. Ahhhh, yes. The light has returned to the Far North Land. Finally.

And I begin the preparations for or at the very least the hope of leaving ‘home’ once again. Yep. Yup. Affirmative. Yes. This tumbling tumbleweed is hoping to move, to blow this pop stand, to relocate, to begin anew, to head down the old highway. AGAIN.

A second job interview, this one in person, is scheduled in three weeks in a faraway place. I am on the path to a new adventure. AGAIN.

Life.

Horizons. New.

AGAIN.

the flies.  So many flies.  Small black flies.  Fruit fly size. Meaning = small.  Not tin\y but small.  Black.  Energetic.  Everywhere.  In the stair well and walkway to my temporary rental, that is.  That kind of everywhere.  Lots and lots of flies.  Black, small energetic flies.

I hate them.  I dislike them.

They disgust me.  They make me gag.  Reflexfully.

A fact of life, these small black flies.

Bummer.

Righteous anger, that is.  You may know the kind of which I write.  The kind of blazing rage that swoops through one’s entire being, igniting hatefulness and spite in its path.  But most of all, indignation.  The sort that says, “how dare you (to someone else)” or “I can’t even believe my freakin’ ears; how can someone (else) be so ignorant, mean spirited, dense… .”  The variety of anger that sits and stays for a long visit.  Settling in and stinking up the whole rest of the day or evening.  And even when the next day arrives, it’s hard to take that step back to assess one’s own part in the fracas.  Difficult to find the detour around the righteous indignation, past the poor me’s, leaving one in an emotional hungover state.  Wrung out but still sort of pissed off.  Too tired though to re-engage or rage on.

No good.  These times, those emotions.

Living large, happily, tragically or in tiny concentric circles, seems to matter little really.  The seconds, minutes, hours, days, years tick by regardless of our inner state or outward appearance.  This life, this breath, this beating of my heart continues until it all stops one day.  The exact second of the stopping is ahead of me and unknown and yet death will come as sure as the breath that I just took flowed in and out of my body because humans are not immortal.  For now, I am here on this planet occupying the space that I do in my little niche of the globe.  While I am here, I hope to contribute to the needs and care of others.  Contribute to the beauty and world conversation through my visual art, written and spoken word.  Contribute to the network of love that flows from one to another and onto others.

There may not be fame or a well known legacy left behind.  I may be remembered by few outside my family once I am gone.  And that is life.  Mainly, I wish to live the remainder of my days free of the gripping fears that beset me through much of my days and nights.  Free of the anxiety residing in my gut, muscles, heart and head.  These two conditions, fear and anxiety, serve me very little and inhibit the robust flow of life energy; dam it up, really.  Arrests the truer deeper life experiences while leaving hypertension, tense muscles and headaches in their wake.

How to release this fear.  How to let go of the anxiousness.

Sounds so simple.  Easy.  And I suppose it is.  However, I feel stuck in my fears.  I just keep walking, one foot in front of the other.  One breath after another with an occasional reminder to breathe deeply and exhale slowly.

Yes.  Remember to count my blessings.  Each and every one of them.  Big and small and humongo and tiny.  Yes. Count them all.  Every one of the daily blessings I am gifted with, deserve counting.  Deserve acknowledgement and gratitude.

Today, Daughter of Mine and her Husband took the time out of the their day and drove through rush hour traffic to come and have dinner with me before completing their drive to Husband’s family home.  Huge Blessing!  Their effort, company and love mean the world to me, particularly at this moment in time.  During this raw and immediate transitional time; blessings can’t be ignored or come too plentifully.  I welcome each and every one with open arms and an open heart.

Thank you Universe.  Thank you Daughter of Mine & my son of many years.

Even while I typed the title to this post, I caught up to the fact that even when it feels that we are all that we have in any given moment, that we are cradled in the arms of the Universe or surrounded by the love of those far away.  We are most likely never truly all alone nor all that we have.  Our emotions can tell us that we are totally alone.  I know this, too, as a fact because that is what exactly what my heart and gut felt earlier this afternoon when my daughter turned and walked away pulling her suitcase and disappeared through the hotel lobby door.  At that moment, I most certainly felt bereft and inconsolable.

And now here a few hours later and I am gathering my knowing, calling upon my faith and praying.  Hard.  Dear Universal Powers That Be.  Dear spirit of Annie Rosa Lee Dog.  Dear Guardian Angels.  Dear Whomever or Whatever Help Outside of Myself ~ Please be here with me right now.  Please help me locate and hold onto my own inner strength, faith and hard earned life wisdom.  Please help me know that I am being cradled, soothed and comforted in my hours of need.

Tomorrow holds yet more unknowns and new-to-me demands.  And I am alone, at least physically.  Loved ones are far away and I feel their absence mightily.

If I owned the perfect GPS, I hope it would direct me to my New Home.  Because I am without a home and want a place to puff up my not yet purchased inflatable bed.  So I can rest my weary body and perhaps turn off my over-processing mind.

Today I discovered that the address that I had thought belonged to my new place of employment, which was the address I have centered my rental search around, hoping to find a place close to or within walking distance of, is not even the address where I will be working.  It was instead, the administrative office address ~ 15 minutes away from where I will actually be showing up for work 5 days per week.  Fifteen minutes.  Not many minutes.  Unless those minutes are on a freeway or located on twisty twiney roads.

I am ready to find and secure my new-to-me home.

Please GPS, point me in the right direction.

August 2017
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