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To the edge of the ocean, that is.  Yes.  I am fleeing to the ocean’s edge seeking solace, seashells, wind and waves.  Rainy forecast be damned, I am still heading out so I can arrive there, where the ocean meets the rocky shore. 

Fingers crossed that my V (as in my Bastard Buddy Vertigo) will allow me a grace period for the 4+ hour drive.  I typically relish driving the many miles as it is a beautiful drive, rain or shine, and this road and I are very well acquainted.  We know each other’s twists and turns, pot holes and all.  So please Universe above and within, please keep the green light lit and a Pink Bubble of safety around yours truly and Buster Blue (aka my trusty car companion) as we escape this city life. 

Because it is true.  The edge is where the good stuff often hangs out.  An ever tempting adventure of discovery.  So to the edge it is.

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Maybe I am unemployable. 

Maybe I am incapable of working for someone else; for very long.  And maybe I am not cut out to be a government worker. 

Just maybe. 

Today has been an exercise in watching and listening to people whose main priority was and is to cover their own asses, thus ensuring proper coverage of their government employer’s ass, which by the by is a very large ass.  Meaning there is a lot of ass covering to ensure. 

Meanwhile, my ego and self-worth both became larger and more trampled on as the day progressed.  Funny thing how wanting to be ‘right’ and its accompanying desire of wanting others to acknowledge one’s own rightness creates a big brouhaha.  Inside one’s own head, at least.  The one in this case, is me.  Time to deflate the old ego mania; to take off the eyeglasses of judgment and inhale a big cleansing breathe. 

Oh yeah.  Reminder to self ~ remember to exhale.

The unmistakable trumpet of Canadian geese pierced through the early morning airwaves and were received by my welcoming ears.  In the spring, these first honkings validate with assurance and confidence that winter is surely on the wane because there are new feathered sherrifs in town.  We know when the geese head south, so do our hopes of continued late summer and autumn joys.  Their departing audio conversations sound sad to those of us left behind.  Left behind to face a cold and icy future.   

But today, the Canadians are back and my heart jumped with joy for surely on their strong wings my prayers for winter’s end are answered.   

It is true. 

Prayers and wishes can, indeed, come true.

Human life on this planet requires general maintenance, of all kinds and assorted varieties.  Whether one is a city or country dweller, financially independent or living paycheck-to-paycheck, brown or white, Southern Baptist or Hasidic Jew, tall short or in between, mature or an infant, able or other bodied, LGBTQQ or undeclared, living within four walls or without a home, multilingual or mute, plain or gorgeously beautiful, argumentative or passive, a red head or bald.  It just simply does not matter.  Because in all cases, life requires general maintenance.  This general maintenance is also a requirement for our non-human friends and best buddies. 

Yesterday my car, Buster Blue, finally broke through my resistance and procrastination by chanting in an increasingly deep and manly voice, Feed Me Feed Me, Change My Oil, Bathe Me.  Anyone who doubts that cars talk to their human companions, are simply not putting on their listening ears and/or are living lives of extreme denial.  Buster Blue had had enough or in his case, not enough tender loving care.  He let me know, loud and clear and repetitively that his general maintance was overdue.  Long overdue.  So off to the car restaurant (aka gas station) and spa (aka carwash) we drove.  We ended Buster’s day of pampering with a trip to the internist (aka Jiffy Lube) for a total check of his fluid levels as well as checking his shoes (aka tires) for continued good fit (aka air pressure). 

Today, Buster Blue, is a happy dude.  I can hear him whistling a little tune from his warm room (aka garage). 

Buster reminds me that some things in life can be made all better with simple acts of attention and care, also-known-as general maintenance. 

Om.

Reflecting back to a year ago as I read through previous posts, private journal entries and summoned memories, I concluded that I am better off in my current moments than in the past already lived times. Better. More. Good progress.

And then the devil’s advocate side of me chimes in, challenging the notion of words such as better and more. Judgment calls, really. Getting my attention, this wily provocateur continues with growing insistence stating that all experiences are just that ~ experiences.  Life lessons if you will.  Or maybe even simpler yet, life in any given moment.  Why, this slightly miffed one asks, do we mere mortals insist upon grading life’s happenings as if only happy contentment is the holy grail.  Life is not meant to be a jazzed up cabaret, my dear, this ruffian extols. 

Growing weary of my now ranting inner nemesis I say, not so kindly, Shut Up.  Shut the F up and get out of my inner sanctuary ~ at least for this moment.  Because in this moment Mister Insister of Multifaceted Existence, you are bringing me down.  Muddying the waters.  You see, I agree with what I believe to be your basic premise ~ all experiences hold value.  I further agree with your assertion that… 

Yada yada yada.

Blah Blah Blah.

You see this morning, Mister Advocate, I am not into deep philosophical preponderances.  I was going another route of simple reflection and simpler yet gratitude.  So back to the beginning of my thoughts I go where I was saying that every aspect of my life is better than 12 months ago. 

  • The vertigo condition, although still with me, is more manageable and being treated;
  • I am working in my chosen professional field and making a financial living;
  • My living space is 200% improved;
  • There’s major progress made in sorting out an “it’s complicated” relationship;
  • An easing and deepening of familial ties;
  • Closer and more meaningful friendships with local friends;
  • New friendships that enhance my life;
  • A renewed spiritual awakening and daily practice;
  • A change in diet, while difficult, is much healthier and life sustaining;

~ more ~ better ~

~ much progress ~

There can be no doubt left in anyone’s mind of which season has us in its icy grip. And if there was a smidgin of denial left in anyone’s psyche, the number of snowflakes that fell yesterday well into the darkness of the night would have smothered any such ability to compartmentalize or sidestep the fact that King Winter remains seated on his ice carved throne.

Weather records are being broken right and left all over the far flung regions in my corner of this planet. Phrases like “one of the five coldest winters in recorded history” and “the coldest winter in the past 40 years” to the north of us ~ and slightly southeast of my location “the heaviest snowfall on record” ~ to my very own little slice of frozen ground “the coldest month of January” and the “most snowfall to date” of any recorded winter.

Avalanches, collapsing buildings, frozen cheerleaders, massive numbers of moose deaths on highways and a backlog up to two weeks for plow service.

Giddy ski enthusiasts, manic snowboarders, adrenaline seeking snowmachiners and yards filled with snow angels.

Yeppers, folks. We’ve got us a winter goin’ on up in this Land of Yes Virginia It is Almost Always Winter in This Neck of the Woods.

I almost lost my mind
I almost went crazy
Buck Crazy,
almost went I, when I instinctively went to roll over on my left side while I was almost sleeping last night. Oh my oh my!

I caught my mind in mid-roll, or turn, since it is difficult to roll in an upright position. Yes, I was able to abort my craziness most likely saving myself from a severe visit from my Bastard Buddy Vertigo (BBV).

Sleep disturbances due to this BBV or more aptly put, trying to avoid visits from my unwelcome BBV, has left me a wee bit cranky and exhausted this week. Smushing my work week into four days in order to relish my three day weekends is well worth the long hours during those four work days. In fact this kind of flexible schedule helps greatly in keeping me an employee at this juncture in my career. But like all things, great and not so great, there’s always the accompanying perks and detractors. The downside of the deal is that I am often done in and used up by the time I unlock my front door and walk into my sweet abode at the end of the day.

Long hours, tired brain, sleep disruption, upgrading my smart phone and figuring out all of the new technology, changes and uncertainty in the workplace, sleeping upright for almost 13 months and uber cold and still too dark days have taken their toll this week.

But you know what?
I am ever so grateful that I stopped my body from following the crazy not good for me impulse`to roll over. Cuz I know from past experience that nothing good was going to come of that and that the quality of my life could have taken a nose dive (no pun intended but apropos). I’ll take a little grumpy and a mediocre exhaustion over longlasting vertigo attacks any day or night.

That, and the fact that winter is passing and we are gaining 5 minutes of daylight back daily, have me almost feeling good to go. Good thing that I have a little while to sip my hot comforting tea from my favorita pottery mug before I have to go about my day outside of my warm home.

Have you ever been missing something or someone but only became aware of their absence upon their return? Well that was me, or at least my experience, day before yesterday while visiting a neighbor when we were both graced by a mom and her baby. A cow moose mom and her two-year old calf baby, that is. They were munching their way through the yard, enjoying the tasty birch trees and snacking on snow to wash down the significant amount of roughage. My neighbor and I even got to have eye-to-eye contact with mama moose as she peered through the living room windows, perhaps curious as to what was being served for dinner behind the four walls.

While watching the moose go about their day, I realized how much I have missed their moose-y presence this winter. With the exception of this cow and calf I have only seen two other moose all winter. Where I used to live, at the Compound, in a more country like setting, I had grown accustomed to frequent and almost daily sightings of these majestic and dignified looking creatures. In fact, there was a mama moose who I had the honor of watching for five winters and summers. She sported a large healed but jagged grey scar along her left side and gave birth to two sets of twins during our acquaintanceship.

So last night while playing Scrabble with a friend at my dining room table, I was happy and pleased to see my second sighting of this new-to-me neighborhood mom moose and calf strolling through the deep snow right outside my windows. While scarfing down the tender birch branches, the snow would fall onto their furry faces, highlighting their long lush eyelashes ~ a picture perfect moment for sure.

So I did what I am wont to do upon spying any wild animal within reach of my human species ~I send a prayer for their safety up to the Heavens that be, quickly followed by my prayer of thanks-giving to share the Earth with such beauty.

Oh Ms. Mama Moose how I have missed you.
Thank you for reminding me of your presence on this planet.
Thank you for filling a void in my winter that only you can fill.
Blessed be to you and your baby ~

In between my last post and last night, life has offered up a couple of opportunities ~ thick and juicy ones, as a matter of fact ~ to help grow my resiliency and encourage my practice of regulating my emotions.

That long sentence really means that it’s been a week, my friend ~ it’s been a week.

A week that I am glad and just a little (or more) proud for utilizing coping strategies that work when I put them into motion.

The majority of my emotional dysregulation (I love this term ~ it makes me smile) sprang from news from my health insurance provider’s announcement that my numerous medical appointments, tests, adjustments and procedures are not going to be covered, at all, due to a clause regarding pre-existing conditions. I won’t go into the whole ugly disempowering quagmire as I fear that might send me back to a tearful rageful place. I will say that I was able to put the situation into a more tolerable perspective within an hour of the event and carry on with my day. What’s more, I haven’t let it wreck my entire week. It’s definitely a low grade worrier and energy sapper and yet that feels so much better than totally giving into the doom gloom despair hatred and bitterness.

I am taking the steps to enter an appeal even though the insurance rep told me to do so was “futile.” Because after all futile is just a word ~ no greater in meaning than “hope.”

The purple hair comes into play as a product if you will of my medical condition, which causes unbearable vertigo when I lie down. And since my hair doesn’t naturally grow shades of purple and black, I go into a colorist to work her magic every 4-6 weeks. Since I cannot lie down to have my hair shampoo’ed, the Color Artiste Extradordinaire slaps color on my hair, wraps strands in foil and then straps a plastic shower cap like thing on my head and sends me on my way to wash out the excess dye in the standing up privacy of my own shower.

Sounds semi-simple enough, right?
Well, throw in the fact that the temps have been well below 0 Farenheit for some time now in this Corner of the Frozen Winter Earth and one can see that some anxiousness might begin to creep in when faced with opening the inside door to go to the outside world. OMG! My head might actually freeze. For realz.

It didn’t.
Thank goodness.

But I did end up ripping out chunks of hair trying to remove the foils that the Color Artiste thoughtfully made travel ready, meaning extra tightly folded so none would be lost in transport. Can you say Ouch! and Ouch, again! I did, my friend, I did. Along with a few other words that I won’t mention here. But a word is just a word, right?

I am relieved that I made it through my work week intact. I am grate-full that the Universe and all of my Guardian Helpers were there helping me along my path and I am appreciative of myself that I accepted the proffered assistance. All in all an okay week made even livelier by sporting bright new shiny purple hair.

There has to be a really good reason for me to stay indoors (again) today. Indoors, meaning to not crack the front door open even a tad. There has to be a really compelling reason to stay right where I am sitting in my cozy comfy living room. Because baby it’s freezing outside. Freezing as in really zero and below zero farenheit degrees freezing, frigid, frosting your tush off in a quick minute, cold.

However there are errands that need attending to that require me to go out there. I have cold weather gear that although not fashion forward, does the job in keeping my core body temperature in the still alive range when I am out and about.

Plus, fresh air is good for me. And, I will feel a sense of accomplishment once I return home from running my errands. Additionally, my life will run smoother this coming work week if I suck it up now and bite the frozen bullet and attend to life in the winter lane.

So here I go. This is me getting ready to blast myself out the front door. Yep, here I go. Here’s me being responsible and efficient.

May the Warmth be with me.

November 2017
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