The time has come to turn your heart into a temple of fire – Rumi
Have I mentioned how much I love our trailer Flame? I adore her.
I love her small dear space. I
love the coziness. I love my drawers (yes,
still talking about that!). I love the
little AstroTurf lawn we have adorned with plastic Adirondack chairs and solar
lights. I love her sweet silver silhouette
which greets me as I pull in the driveway where she sits just to the right of
the scorched totem pole. I love her
solitude.
We still haven’t worked out the space – but it’s only been 3
nights… The clutter gets to David yet I know we will find homes for
things. The most challenging issues are
the dogs and the “home office” setup.
The two gigantic dog beds are staying although one takes up the entire
kitchen floor and the other the dining/entrance area. Dogs are happy though – and that’s all that
matters. We can move the beds out of the
way during the day.
I slept well last night.
David had to travel back to Seattle and was up early. I dozed lightly while he moved around as the
trailer sways with each firm footstep.
After he left, I ended up sleeping until – drum roll please – 8:15! Woooohooooo!
Rested you say? Well, tell that
to my dark circles under my eyes. Like
the scars on the land, our faces show the strain as well. Oh well, it is simply more character.
This morning, a movement caught my eye and two Elk came into
view just outside the trailer. I tried
to take a picture but kept fumbling.
Tigger caught wind and barked his deep-throated fierce defense. Good dog, protecting momma. The Elk ambled their way up the hill and past
the mound of dirt that was our foundation in search of the sporadic patches of
green grass. It’s very still out there
today. I love the quiet. It soothes my soul and my weary heart.
Last night we met with our builder – still unsure of what we
will be building although we know it will be quite tiny. We were in 1200 sq feet before and now we
will go even smaller. Part of our
homework from our attorney was to work with this builder to determine the
actual value of our old home. This was a
sobering process. We had listed all the
upgrades and remodeling projects with the adjustor in the beginning (and I must
say, with our agent when we first applied for insurance). Yet sitting across from an experienced
mountain builder who asked for details about our home and exclaimed loudly at
the pictures we showed was upsetting. We
knew our home was special – apparently it was structurally quite special. The level of detail in the architecture from tongue
and groove walls to post and beam ceilings, handcrafted finishes from the custom
doors to the trim, to the stair railing and the extensive angles and windows
throughout. All of this added tremendous
value to the small space. Bottom line –
with our insurance money, we could never ever ever come close to building that
structure again. Caution to all of you,
don’t just trust a number that your insurance company gives you for
“re-building” costs – educate yourself especially if your home has any unique features.
Feeling defeated, I checked my email one last time before we
drove back to Flame and saw a note from my extraordinary neighbor Sharon Scanlon
who wrote about another “former homeowner” who had just learned that her
brother died suddenly of a heart attack.
A month and a half ago this woman lost her home and everything she owned
and now she lost her brother. Tragedy doesn’t care. It strikes at whim with no regard for the
other events that have occurred or may be occurring. This news was certainly a reminder for me of
how much worse it could be. My heart is
with my neighbor and her family. I can’t
even imagine how she is coping. We will
be here to catch her when she returns.
It’s easy to question the existence of a God during these
times. Life does not make sense. It is not predictable. It is not fair. It just is. Anything can happen at any minute. We could live in the anxiety of this fact or
merely just live. Just because my house
burns down does not mean my husband won’t die suddenly or I won’t receive a
life threatening diagnosis. There are no
guarantees. This awareness takes many
people to the edge of darkness and swallows up many more. Just how can we live in this uncertain and
often unsafe world?
In 12-step rooms, there is a saying that when removed
from context of the literature, takes on a life of it’s own and (in my ever
so humble opinion) is bastardized. It is: “There, but for the grace of God, go I”.
People who use this slogan seem to be saying that those of us who have
survived alcoholism have been chosen. I
absolutely do not believe that anyone is chosen over another. I believe we can choose to tap in to God’s
grace and bring it into our lives but the thought that there is a God up there
saying, “that one, not that one, yes
that one, no not him, oh maybe her
cause she certainly will do good things, that one fuhgeddaboudit” is preposterous to
me.
Coming up on 23 years ago, I was given the choice of
recovery. At a crossroads in life, I saw
darkness looming in my future. More than
darkness even, it was a huge black nasty hole coming to swallow me up. I chose the unknown – with the aid of my
parents – and entered rehab. I don’t
believe God selected me but didn’t select my ex-boyfriend Larry who died in
2003 of an overdose. God didn’t choose
me over Ann Appel who perished in the fire.
Life just happens. Shit just
happens. Bad shit just happens. And good shit too. Yes, it is all relative what we label “good
shit” and “bad shit”. Once upon a time,
I would have argued a stronger case for “nothing means anything but the meaning
we give it…” I see the freedom in this – yet we are still human and try to tell
that to those raped and pillaged in Africa, or the loved ones of a victim of a
drunk driver, or those who lost their parents or wife in a fast-moving wildfire.
Recently, I heard someone say that any crisis after the age of 40 is a spiritual crisis. I can dig that. Ultimately, we need to work out what this all
means on our own. We can be influenced
by teachings, literature, religion, art or whatever yet it’s crucial we all
find our own way. In my session with my shaman on Monday, she
said a mantra I have been repeating since – walk
your own path. Walk my own
path. My own. Not yours, not how you think I should be or
how you think you should be or how religion or any spiritual teaching thinks we should be. Not the teachings of a particular school, education
or group. Your own. My own.
I choose to see this crisis as an opportunity to truly walk my
own path. I have been exploring what
that even means for many years yet I still wanted to do it “right”. As one of my spiritual mentors says, “you can
get to the top of a mountain on a donkey named Bob”. I heard those words yet being the rule
follower and good girl I am (or was), I craved to find the “proper”
channel. My anger at God is good because
I am throwing all my beliefs on the ground, stomping on them until they lie
bleeding – and then picking back up what works and what now fits. And, I haven’t picked up all the pieces. I am still seeing how they fit – and
sometimes I just leave them squirming helplessly on the ground as they beg for
me to pick them up. I may taunt them,
leave them in the mud and ash or simply walk away. They may cry to me as I turn my back. And, then sometimes I tune in and drop out by
watching “Weeds” (us sober people have very few ways to really numb out…)
I am hugely committed to my spiritual path and my spiritual
growth – yet it’s time to discard what doesn’t really fit for me. We all get to decide
this for ourselves. Really, what’s the
point of our trip around this rock if we don’t get to discover for ourselves
what life is all about? And, we may be wrong! Who the F knows? Really!
No one actually knows. We made it
all up to attempt to make sense of the nonsensical. Or someone else made it up and we are merely
buying into that interpretation. You say
you worship fairies, then worship fairies.
You like Jesus, have Jesus. You
like the Old Testament, power to you.
You think nothing is real, choose that.
Choose what works for you. That’s
what I am gonna do.
YES!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, m'love. Keep on truckin' - you're amazing. ma
ReplyDeleteAs you write out your heart and your head think about all the energy we put into living. What we love, what we do with love, and what we do for love......We try to live our best lives each day, when out of left field that curve ball takes us out. One day we move past our past and into a future where the unknown is our present. One day our future on this planet expires. Along the walk we are presented with ideas, encouragement, naysayers against what each of us believe, lies and truth. We get maybe 110 years on planet earth. Overcoming is the key to living. Our bodies give out but our soul carry on. As you dig out of this life altering event and experience the emotions and toll that it has left at your feet, look to a path that gives you life after that 110 years! Right now You, Dave, and Your babies have been robbed, torched, and left to rebuild what you've worked hard to build. I am praying for you and your family. You stated-{I am hugely committed to my spiritual path and my spiritual growth – yet it’s time to discard what doesn’t really fit for me.} I am praying for you, a leader for many to find what will fit you and bring light into your path! I think you know my beliefs.....Bless you my friend! I smell fresh grass growing on that charred land...xoxo
ReplyDeleteThank you Emily. It means a lot to know you are reading my words. Thanks for your love and prayers.
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