Coming Apart at the Seams

Sitting here on this quiet night, a sweet kitty resting his head on my right ankle as I type. The window is still open just a couple inches, ushering in fresh night air on this relatively warm evening. In this moment I am feeling calm and fine. What better thing could I ask for on this sweet night than peace and quiet, and a companion to share it with?

Throughout the day, though, I have felt like I am on a roller coaster. From anger to defensiveness to judgment to resentment to devastation to sadness to despondency. Yes, my cycle has begun, and the emotional upheaval will settle. But the truth is that each of the things that have sent me on this wild ride hold a kernel of truth in them, and point me toward something that is unsettled inside of me.

Today I went with Lynn to see the new house she will be renting after the settlement on her house is complete. Another ten days, no more. And as much as I wanted to know where to find her, and to help her move a few things, it was so sad to go there. The reality of her leaving the neighborhood really hit me in the gut. And I thank god that I moved in across the street from her almost eight years ago...she has blessed me in more ways than I can ever, ever imagine. The thought of not saying a daily hello, sharing hugs and tea and joys and sorrows, talking to the trees... Well, it sure is going to be a challenge to not loathe the new neighbor who is pushing her out. We sat on her porch after the movers left, and chatted in the overcast afternoon light. Train tracks nearby...that's almost like Oella. And big trees, and the house is nice enough. But it's a boring, soulless neighborhood. You can hear the noise from the highway nearby, and there is no character to the neighborhood. Just a street with houses on it, and people doing what people do everywhere. The thought of her being tucked away in that place, behind so many warehouses and industrial areas, and in the line of airport traffic... Well, perhaps for her, it will be exactly what she needs for now. But for me, I know I would wither. I am learning that there are two key components in a place to live for me - community and connection with Mother Earth. From there, there is no forest or river or lake close by. And a sense of community is surely much, much more than people passing each other on the street, living in tolerance of each other from behind their own doors from their own private property...

It seems that these requirements are no longer a part of what is considered a basic human need... People choose a place to live based on a whole different set of values. I wonder if the person who is buying Lynn's house looked beyond the charming house with a wooded lot behind? Or is it all about the property? People seem to want walls and land, and not really consider the bigger picture. As for me, I don't give a damn if I ever own a house. But I know I need to be able to be in the woods without much effort, and I need a real sense of community. Otherwise, I see nothing that makes it worth getting out of bed in the morning. Really.

Change just keeps on coming. Tomorrow marks five weeks since Familiar kitty passed. Lynn will be leaving in a week. My bamboo flute is done for. What next??? How is it possible to surrender to the flow of life when I feel like the river is going to drown me in this madness of change? Must I live in a constant state of distress, wondering what will be next...who will die, who will leave, what will break or be taken...on and on and on... I don't want to live with that kind of thinking. But it is what I am feeling in my life at the moment. Hence the despondency that filled my evening tonight. I feel like any move I make into trying to enjoy life is only a thin veil covering the hopelessness I feel right now. Everything is coming apart at the seams. My very reality is coming apart at the seams.

More Change

Things are changing at the speed of light. I am feeling that in spite of my choices in the last months of moving into living more simply and slowly, the world is changing more and more around me. And right now, all I have is surrender. Surrender to the flow that knows its path, even when I don't.

Lynn sold her house today. I can't believe it. Not having her living across the street from me is the worst idea in the world. I love her beyond words, and I want nothing more than to have her living across the street from me for the rest of my life. And the truth is that she sold her house today, and will probably be moving within a month. Unbelievable. And in spite of the devastation of that news, there is something in me that is in the flow, that can accept it and move with it.

Alan, my friend and catsitter, moved in with her a year ago, renting the lower level of her house. And as soon as he told me that Lynn sold the house, a flash ran through my body. I knew that I needed to offer him the possibility of being my roommate. I didn't say so right away, I waited until he was coming by for dinner tonight. I sat with the idea briefly, and said, "do I really want to do that? Can I give up my meditation room? Am I really ready to share my space, which has been mine alone for nearly eight years?" And the flash that had moved through made no uncertainty in its wake. I knew that the answer was yes. Not only would it help me financially, it would help Alan to stay in this community. And he is so connected to Friday kitty, it seems like a perfect match.

I have been remotely contemplating a roommate for a while now. My apartment isn't ideal for a roommate, and I knew that it would have to be the right person. The space is small, and my needs regarding peace and cleanliness and green living are clear. I knew that I couldn't just live with some random roommate, but someone who was in the same mind as me regarding lifestyle. And surely, if Alan decides to accept, it will take some getting used to. Some negotiating our individual needs for harmonious cohabitation. But the clarity I feel about it is astounding. This is the thing that I needed to offer now. If I want to live in community, I may as well start at home, right?

I feel like I am standing in the calm center of a hurricane right now. Familiar passed, Lynn sold her house, change is swirling all around. But I know in my heart that all will be just as it should. It is my responsibility to show up with full presence as the waves swell, and now that I am feeling more like myself - more centered, less fearful - that is much more possible. Once more, the prayer of St. Francis comes to mind - "Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace." Yes.