1/6/12

1/6/12

Back from the hiatus. Back with a new mission.

September was the last time I wrote and the passed three months have been full of predictable decisions and unforeseen changes.

I ended my 'Growing Season in Phoenicia' early in October and said goodbye to my fantastic garden and new friends.

I booked a flight to Seattle to find out once and for all if my old love and had anything left... if there was any love left in my heart (or enough insanity still left in my mind) to make a relationship with him work.

I believe I knew the answer all along, but I needed to officially close the door. The finale. This seemed impossible to do over the phone.

Three weeks later I was back in the east, staying with my friend in NJ, and working a rad job with plants. I think my window of opportunity was open and just waiting for me to shut the front door.

1/6/12

During the last 8 years, I have moved every two. Started over, usually out of state. A new job. A new set of roads. A new beginning. Semi-nomadic. Gypsy-like.

I don't believe I enjoy it necessarily, at least, not so much as I did in my more youthful days.

I do love and require new situations and places. Exploring. Learning. Making it my town.

But at times I feel like a transient.

My life really can be packed up and shipped for about $100.

Low in the material possessions department which would be great if I was walking the Buddhist path or traveling the world, neither of which I'm currently undertaking.

I long for 'stuff'. I want sweet vintage furniture and my grandma's collectables.

I want windows turned into jungles by crowded houseplants.

I want two dogs.

I want my bed and a kick-ass teapot.

I want a place to call my own.

No one's fault but my own that I don't have these things yet...or gave them up ( I will never sell my records again!). Years spent living in destructive relationships and horrible decision making put me here. Poor and couch-surfing between a friend's and my brothers'.

It could be much worse. After all I wouldn't want to spend my time with any other people; and I am not on the streets. I still feel like a gypsy packing up my shit every few days to stay in my hometown during the workweek, and woodsy weekends up in the highlands.

I'm not complaining... really.

I'm just calculating the effect time has on resilience.

Patience is a big player in the equation.

Savin' the $ flow, so my roots can grow.