Hang on little tomato

It’s been a rough week in Meville. For almost a year, I’ve been planning this amazing trip to Eastern Washington with friends to go see Dave Matthews Band. We went last year and it was heavenly. I can’t think of any prettier venue than The Gorge Amphitheatre or better company with whom to share it. They indulged my whim to visit a really bad mural in the city of Toppenish of someone called Irish Dick, being mauled by a bear and have good naturedly participated in a year of Irish Dick jokes, so I know they’re my tribe. This year, despite half of the Pacific Northwest being ablaze, we had concert tickets for two nights, a rented house near Leavenworth, plans for floating down the river, horseback riding, barbeques, and ziplining (okay, I was probably going to be more of a watcher for that one. The sense memory of my last break is too fresh to induce me into anything that involves lines breaking and me potentially careening toward the earth, but still…) In short, we were planning to have lots of fun. Because of responsibilities at home, I don’t get a lot of time to myself or as much time alone with my friends as I’d like, so it was a much needed respite. It’s been this bright spot of sunshine to look to any time things were difficult and this week I had to cancel.

I won’t lie. I’ve been feeling disappointed (maybe even a little bitter at first, though thankfully that has passed). Reality is that it’s just not a good time with a tight budget and a house full of guests. There have been some challenges with differing ways of doing things, my mom’s memory, level of patience and adapting to having four extra people in the house. One day she is jovial and fun, the next, she forgets things and blames people for things they’re not doing, then gets mad at me for trying to talk her into being reasonable, which creates a tense environment. They offered to stay with her while I was gone, but I don’t really feel like that’s a tenable situation. I’d take her with me, but then she would spend the whole time freaking out over whether the animals are okay and I’m honestly not yet in a place of trust that sees “here, strangers, stay alone in my house for several days,” so that would not be ideal (or much of a break) either. So, I’m not going and have promised myself that when things quiet down and become more normal, I will slip away for a beach weekend or a short mountain retreat (or if I’m really desperate, maybe just the Holiday Inn down the street!).

Meanwhile, I’ve been thinking of strategies to carve out little blocks of time and replenish my spirit in other ways. So, I’ve signed up for some personal growth classes – one called Warrior – True Voice Restored and another onSnake through wonderful Pixie Lighthorse’s SouLodge program. I’m really excited to be doing this work in time for October 28, which is kind of an anniversary for me. It’s the day I broke my shoulder last year, which ushered in a period of intense transition and rebuilding (I’m still working on the rebuilding part), so working with issues of Voice and Rebirth seems particularly apropos. Ideally, I’d like to celebrate the 28th with something special, though I’m not yet sure what that is. How does one celebrate a symbolic birthday?

The good thing is that I’m no longer really upset or depressed about it. Rather, I choose to look at it as a message from the universe that the time wasn’t right. There are no accidents. Things usually work out as they are meant to and I can’t wait to see what is coming in the next year! Whatever else happens, I know there will be a lot of learning and growth and that alone is enough to get excited about.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s