Christmas 2017

No decorated tree, no wreaths, no gifts to share (no money to purchase any b/c half the house taxes came due in November). My simple string of color lights are already off the windows in preparation to the move to another town. No snow, no Santa hats, a red turtleneck in deference to the season, but no shower today since the electrical outlet in the bathroom doesn’t work & I simply don’t feel like braving the icebox room for other than quick bathroom functions.

Our Christmas menu is turkey tenders from Schwan’s; we hope for gravy in the package. Also a bag of their mashed potatoes. No hot rolls or stuffing. But we do have a cheesecake defrosting!

This adobe house has reached its heat peak today – low 50’s with electric heaters valiantly chugging in three of the huge rooms. Its heater has not worked for two years. I wear a hoodie as I prepare pizza slices for lunch – which I don’t want, but nothing is defrosted & not much will defrost in the cold. I have taken out some hamburger for dinner later…will have to shave the brick to try & cook it. By then the heater will have rendered cooking tenable.

My roommate sits in her room watching musicals on Turner TV. The cat is the only spirit here who’s independent of the cold, going in & out on his own.  I hold the computer in my lap for its heat value & watch videos, or read books, or maybe will rent an Amazon movie later. (Have my eye on “Priceless,” a hero story.) I watch the alternative blogs, all alight with Trump’s Executive Order & I offer gratitude each time I see another aspect of the story. The Khazarian mob is deadlocked. They’ve arrived in their corner & will not be permitted an exit. Will forgiveness follow? Will we advance enough along the Holy Way to find how to do this, after all the whack-a-mole hammering we’ve received? Centuries of abusive taxes, explosive wars, damage to humanity – women & children destroyed, men broken…take this as far as you dare.

My room is a cardboard paradise. My possessions reboxed & stacked, awaiting the strength of my spine to move into a borrowed vehicle for transport; the bank accounts emptied into pockets of a new landlord & Visa. The comfy, lighted massage studio is empty except for one chair, the dragonfly curtain replaced with dark brown, no light now, no warmth, no hot towels or soft music. The perfect meditation space if you seek focus in darkness & tolerate cold well.

If I have made this sound sad or anything other than practical (a what-it-is scenario), this is your emotion offsetting the situation here. There is a wondrous, tangible gift to me on the eve of the newest of years. My Christmases have for a decade been sere as old leaves. A student sent me a scarf last week, a new hanging for my new space. I missed the Christmas decoration exchange in town and the hen party Chinese Exchange…tho our fiestas (one commercial, one for our residents) were lovely. I read a poem at the latter & helped to hand out maps & sell posters at the former. I am complete with the town.

I invest no sentiment in holidays. To me, they are liquidly transparent days because love doesn’t need a special day or time to be shown. Seeing them as fixed calendar dates only, allows the celebration of their truth to express in my life all the time. My morning walks are filled with gratitudes spoken aloud, my evening climbing-under-the-covers times are filled with prayers of thanks that the day has passed & another awaits, a tomorrow to express lovingkindness once again. In between, I watch the sunlight rediscover the world & the moonlight bestow its blessings in its unceasing ritual, full to none, each month.

This lack of sentiment has freed me from “schmaltz” & heretic empathy. It delights me instead to find miracle & blessing in every stalk of grass, every sighting of a deer in a yard, every wave rising from the ocean to meet my eyes in joyous, frivolous bubbling.

I believe in a wordy kind of love, one which expresses along my right arm, the one skilled in writing. I believe I, among all in the world, am blessed with this altered view & the ability to experience it in such a way that it is shared with you now.

My life is at another pivot point. My meridians stretch from here to wherever I may extend them outward. My hopes are realized in the new-future Politik which will emblazon the Light on Earth so symbolically reborn. I am freed from this dark, cold, sad place. I did all I could to help change up its energy, but six months later, there is no appreciable change of manner or idea. Even with cleaning, this house is unclean. I can straighten every surface, but this adds no comfort & no heat. I no longer serve here as it is of no worth.

Instead, I have been gifted with a clean, bright, sparkle of a home. I have an upstairs/downstairs, layers & levels to live upon. I have furniture coming next Friday – one chair to sit upon, one twin bed, a small table with two chairs, a desk where I can write, write, write. Another town where my talents may manifest in helping as a volunteer, in enjoying the company of familiar faces, in spending my time instead of owing it out in unfulfilled commitment.

A new place, uninhabited for a year, so cleansed of energy. I can invest mine. I can re-set my life to a new compass point. I can choose & select what surrounds me. I can make another statement about my life, rebirth my focus & consciousness.

I’m just in time for the new world to bubble up from the ancient hot springs below the crust.

A new world for me!

The best present of all!!

 

Don’t Put Your Glasses Down!

Moving Day approaches. Let’s see now, I’ve moved from Nashville to Truth or Consequences (T or C), to Hillsboro, to Ruidoso, to Ocean City, to Berlin, to Fenwick Island, to Hillsboro, all since 2010, & am now returning to T or C. That’s a LOT of boxes to tape.

I’ve given away stuff I’m now re-buying. I’ve invested, divested, shared, thrifted, lost, found…countless items. I have no idea why we need so much stuff, and, believe me, I have much less stuff than most people I know.

Some basic Laws of Moving I have learned:

  • always buy the heavier duty tape – this is not a time to go for cheaper pricing
  • don’t run out of tape – more than you need is just enough
  • note where you put down your glasses every time you take them off
  • ditto on the car keys
  • keep track of friends, b/c they’re generally going out of town on move day
  • always use good body mechanics
  • don’t attempt to move without a strong back
  • tape EVERYTHING you possibly can
  • when pulling boxes out of the trash, make sure they  have bottoms
  • keep in mind Newton’s second principle: two items cannot occupy the same space at the same time
  • this is a good time to consider an investment in robot tech

I’m sure there are a bunch more I could come up with, maybe something relating to gravity, inertia, stress factors concerning cardboard, how much you really want/need an item, and more. But I’m pretty certain you’ve learned them all through moving yourself. And if you’re one of those unusual folk who’ve stayed put for anything over twenty years, I have only a large well of empathy to tap on your behalf should this time ever come to your door.

Desperation sharpens the memory, but only in the desperate individual. My landlord said call him the day before to confirm the move; my hired helper said call him the day before to confirm the time to be here which I’ve just called & told him; the fella I’m buying the replacement (of the identical computer desk I gave away three years ago) said call him pre-move to remind him I’m coming to pick it up. Do men not come equipped with memories?

Reminds me of the story about the husband who, noticing he can’t sign on, calls out to his wife in the kitchen, “Honey, did you change the password?” To which she replies in her sweetest voice, “Yes, I did! It’s our anniversary date.”

My new place is a duplex, with a second floor & two bedrooms. It’s a real WOW after living with roommates, in motel rooms, in efficiencies – all of which have sprung furniture, with at least one chair where the seat can sink into the floor, with questionable mattresses & extra-cold kitchens. Where I am now, the drier is in the garage, a chill walk from the back swinging doors (which only open if you go through them with approximately the force of a battering ram in the hands of an invading, woad-painted army.) It is always interesting to see how other people live. But for at least a year of the lease, I can live with a view of the Caballo Mountains, topped by Turtleback, with a washer/dryer off the kitchen, a bath and a half plus a small graveled yard for outdoors living when the weather brings surcease instead of subzero.

I guess it just isn’t my gift in later life to stay in one place for long. I guess I’m still searching for the spot where I can stay for twenty years, after which they can just open a hole under the living room floor & bury me. No need for ceremony. Matter of fact, this new place was built atop a lube shop, so there’s already a nice big hole under there, tho the hydraulic lift is most likely gone. But that’s okay. Far more comfy than what I’m always telling people – “just toss me down the nearest elevator shaft.”

Wish me strength & fortitude, strong hands & good eyes. While you’re at it, wish me the ability to hammer in a straight nail as most of my pictures hang at a slight angle, like an earth tremor crossed under the floor before dawn. Wish me up a lot of energy over the next week. But I usually have the place together within 48 hours because after living in a roomful of boxes with a Libra’s keen sense for disorder as pain, it will be total pleasure to have my few things arrayed just how I want them.

With all the homelessness out there (I tell people to get to the Walmart they just make a left after the second panhandler up the road.) No disrespect here, just practical directions, really. (Once, passing through Nashville, I gave a woman in a wheelchair a bill as she sat on the corner in a steady rain. She peered into my car & asked sympathetically if I was living in it.)

One thing more: I would move forever if it meant more stories like these. Life isn’t static, but rotting out is exactly that. Each place gives me gifts of light, love, laughter, the chance to meet new people & hug old friends.

Enough sitting now. The boxes are starting to whisper again…

 

Coming Out of Your Shell

Hullo, sending you love. I’ve made some notes about your desire for changing up your life & feeling it may never happen…
I know so well that the longest  time is before the departure when our dreams have changed & on the inside we have moved almost too far away to come back, to ever even exist in this now, the one without the changes so much of us has already made. We are our new selves in old clothing which no longer fits & in which we canNOT get comfortable no matter how we pull, tug, pin, zip.
But it happens that we often do not listen to what is going on until the time for it to happen is past due & then the realization comes in that we should have been gone earlier, that we have waited what seems to long for change & it now will not come.
It is not just you. The whole world has been tapped on the shoulder, and shrugged it off over & over again. Things got worse. MORE tapping, this time on our head; we shake it off. (Oh, hearing things again) then the tapping comes upon our hearts & this time we think, no! not my heart, OMG I heard this before – it was on my shoulder, it was on my head, is it too faint now to hear when  it is on my heart?
There’s a reason every time an angel appears to a human the first words said are, “Fear not!” For all change is fear to the human, our safety lies in sameness. Until it doesn’t, until we realize we needed to be safe elsewhere to be happily so. Then we divorce, then we have a child, then we move to another neighborhood, start school, take a new job. the idea is to pay close attention to hearing always in our heart first. the words are always “fear not” and the rest of that is “I am with you, always.”
Through every change, in every new idea, with every gift given & received, we live again, We gain with the new, the experience, the emotion around it, the idea of it…till suddenly nothing fits & all must be relied upon as gifts to the spirit/gifts of the spirit.
We live again through this movement TOWARD which is always movement AWAY at the same time. It is how the balance is maintained. We are never given one that we are given so many more & the choices are profuse. I seek always the place where I can hear my heart beat, for it is here my truth resides. The truest tapping of all – that which becomes a drumbeat the heart, head & feet cannot resist until we march on into the newest of dawns.
It is your spirit calling you out of your life, telling you to re-new your life, dust off the wings, shake off the shoes, we place ourselves where the powers of love can find us, take us up into heaven, escort our walking on water, comb out our wings, move us, move us, move us.
So consider these days the winding of the clocks which will spring you forward into exactly where & when you being asked to SHOW UP as your best self. Allow these moments to pass in grace & love & know you are moving even tho all is still. Listen to that heart of yours beating, feel the tapping on your soul, be ready. For it shall change in the twinkling of an eye & the now will be a faint echo of “then” soon enough.