I've been requested, by one loyal listener, to stop with the jokes and update you on what's really going on. Here it is. Nothing. This is Missouri, and frankly, I'm bored. I know, you old timers are saying, "If your bored you're boring," but I don't think any of them lived in a town of 30,000 Republicans.
The biggest thing happening here is that last night four, not three, but four racoons showed up at the bird feeder and ate themselves sick. I threw out old bread, veggies and bird seed and they had a great time. I think it was mom and dad and two babies, but what do I know. Two big and two little guys. They also thoroughly perused the trash that was on the porch because Romy has now figured out how to open the child-proof locks my s/o installed on the door where the garbage was kept. We're also back to the bungie on the kitchen door because she has that lock down, too, much to the chagrin of a pound of butter she ate a few nights ago.
As for what else is happening, I'm writing; my brother is trying to update my website to make it look more professional; I applied for a state job in public relations (God, do I need benefits!); my cell phone still isn't working in the house; I'm hitting meetings; I scratched my travel plans to Arizona after a ruthless assessment of my income (I'm broker than I've ever been in my life); the house is still not fully painted after four months and all my furniture is still in Arizona; the cost to rent the van to get it here is $1400 which I don't have; I'm having a problem each day with gratitude; I miss Oz; I still struggle with depression but not as much as I did; I am still in my relationship although I can't figure out how my boyfriend is putting up with me (I think he's a saint); oh, and I started taking a yoga class and today my whole lower body feels like I've been put in a vise.
How is my daily meditation book going? you may ask. It's with a small press publisher who promised to get back to me last week, but you know how that goes. Next it goes to Hazeldon if she rejects it. All the agents have, but that's all because it isn't commercial enough for them so it's either a small press or self publish it.
As for my career, who knows. I know that I should be grateful just to be alive and I keep focusing on the small joys: a great man in my life; two great dogs although Oz is still in AZ; a nice house; my health; my twisted sense of humor which has served me well; my Fellowship friends; and the ability to communicate via this blog, which keeps things in perspective. I keep asking God to make me uniquely useful. It's His time, not mine, I keep telling myself. Faith. As St. Augustine said, "First I believe; then I understand." Right now it's all kind of foggy. You, too, can have this after 21 years.
Yesterday at yoga the teacher, who is a kinda chunky guy wearing shiny shorts that almost show the world much more than it wants to see, said that the exercises we were doing allowed our "heart chakra" to unravel, or words to that effect. My heart chakra is definitely raveled, and although I've worked with letting the walls around my heart dissolve for years, I'm still the same old me. Some days, that's not such a good thing. Other days, it's all okay.
1 comment:
Your boyfriend is probably not a saint, but it sounds like he loves you very much and would walk through fire for you if necessary.
Treasure that kind of relationship, it is rare.
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