John goes off to work most Sunday evenings; sometimes Monday mornings-

when I get lucky.

He returns Friday evenings; sometimes Saturday mornings-

when I get lucky.

this is our new routine.

It’s not what we hoped for.

It’s not at all what we envisioned.

But it is good. For now it is very good.

I am envious though.

Of his going out.

that’s right! He’s all that 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the initial thrill of walking around this house alone and savoring all it’s nooks and crannies

I settled nicely into a self-pity story; ‘he gets to-and I’m stuck behind‘.

Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced. Soren Kierkegaard

I wondered to myself last night

after that Monday morning of John’s just leaving

and the day full of my self-pitied (whine!)

cleaning the rooms and setting up an idea in the studio and fetching the cat from the room she’s not allowed in and calling on a bill due and running into town amidst heightened excitement and traffic for Breeder’s Cup and called the contractor for a few fixes and made the list for new guest necessities before they arrive and scrubbed the new tile yet again to remove yet again layers of construction dust yet again and mourned my anxieties of self and wondered yet again if I would ever truly rest in peace while still alive yet again and emailed a neighbor interested in wax and muddled over the excitement of my house and studio by locals yet no takers to commit to desire to learn and

I wondered to myself last night

if I tore off all the layers of life that have happened and

happened to me

what is left?

The good life is one inspired by love and guided by knowledge. Bertrand Russell

and I saw it.

Why doing all this

despite the self-indulgent self-pity (sigh)

is good.

Is rewarding and life-giving and well,

fun! for me.

I like this stuff.

Mostly. I really, really like this stuff! But

it’s so basic, so just I don’t know, basic!,

how can it be real?! A career, a path, a life well lived fully?! Really?!

The cleaning. The baking. The welcoming. The showing teaching inspiring encouraging enlightening

and going back to clean and bake and welcome and show and encourage

again.

It’s all little shots of adrenaline to me.

Because I like to make a place and space and way that

helps others to find their place and space and way

but I realize a key–

only if they first can help themselves.

I like to give wholeheartedly

and do so unabashedly

to those capable

in their own right

world

way

of giving wholeheartedly themselves.

Not needy; but needing

whatever I can give.

Stopping off for a short while on my proverbial doorstep to get wax, or wonder, or words or warm bed

then going off stronger, more enlightened, open, back on their own paths~

I am here to care and serve and share and give and offer and supply and

make-life-a-little-easier-better-nicer-wholer-brighter-as-you-go-about-your-way.

I can do that.

What’s more, I like to do that.

It’s the basic; sure

It’s the background work.

I can do that.

Now I ask myself, can I settle (down) for that?

And do the things that make a life whole

wholeheartedly?

Patience doesn’t mean making a pact with the devil of denial, ignoring our emotions and aspirations. It means being wholeheartedly engaged in the process that’s unfolding, rather than ripping open a budding flower or demanding a caterpillar hurry up and get that chrysalis stage over with. Sharon Salzberg

So when the next Monday-after-John-just-left-anxiety-riddled-anxious-day hits

I’ll be grateful he’s out there

and I’ve been out there

and I’ll go out there again if it’s where I need to go

but for now, I settle into the

day of self-pitied cleaning the rooms and setting up an idea in the studio and fetching the cat from the room she’s not allowed in and calling on a bill due and running into town amidst heightened excitement and traffic for Breeder’s Cup and called the contractor for a few fixes and made the list for new guest necessities before they arrive and scrubbed the new tile yet again to remove yet again layers of construction dust yet again and mourned my anxieties of self and wondered yet again if I would ever truly rest in peace while still alive yet again and emailed a neighbor interested in wax and muddled over the excitement of my house and studio by locals yet no takers to commit to desire to learn and

and know that this too is my get to.

This seemingly simple, earthy, doing and care-taking and base and basic is my getting to

too.

And I’m getting it a bit more

every day.

in love.

trish.