LIfe in Flames

It’s quiet here.  Dare I say peaceful?  I know houses don’t make much noise – especially mountain houses but it seems more silent than ever before.  The land is restored to an earlier state.  Different than it was in 1983 before the building began yet it restored to a raw place, pre-human dwelling place.  Grass is blooming in patches, birds are singing, bugs are crawling, small wildflowers are poking up in unlikely spots.  The hummingbirds have returned and we welcome them with small feeder on our Astroturf lawn.  I sit outside to write today, getting a later start due to lounging in bed until 7:30, taking out the trash (we have trash service again!), and a series of phone calls.  Jessica is on the way to help me create some order and “continue” with the inventory process.  The dreaded inventory feels just that, dreaded.  Yet with the help of friends, it is doable.  Alone, not so much. 

It promises to be a warm day and I am grateful (as always) to live 3000 feet above the early season heat Denver will experience today.  The shipping container will arrives later this morning and we will begin nesting there as well. More storage space for our small pile of detritus we have accumulated as well as the artifacts that lie in the elements, rusting even more on their newly scorched visages.  I discovered an artist in Evergreen who makes small sculptures out of found art and was drawn to an angel she made from a collection of who knows what.  I am creating a pile for her to commission an angel formed from what once was.   Right now, the pile sits next to the totem pole and obstructs the view off the back of Flame.  It needs to go somewhere else.  The twisted and molten memories beckon and clog my mind more than it deserves to be clogged. 

We are moving on.  David is travelling regularly, having to go this week and next which is unusual.  Concerned friends inquired if I was scared to stay in the trailer by myself.  Not at all.  Tigger barked at shadows (or more) in the dusky light – and he doesn’t usually bark so I was momentarily concerned but then the dogs settled and so did I.  There was a bear siting in the neighborhood yesterday, roaming and scrounging for food in this altered landscape.  No bear here, yet.  I will ask her to stay away from Flame for now, please.  We will lock the dog food and trash up in our new shipping container once it arrives.  More settling in. 

And, now a message from our sponsors… Just because I am settling does not mean I am through this process.  Actually, nowhere near through.  A beloved of mine is currently moving through a series of major life challenges involving her child and a beloved of hers.  We talked about struggles she is having with her husband and how just because the dust seems to be settling a bit does not mean they are through.  Some challenges and stressors take a while.  A long long while.  We need to remember how delicate we still are – and we need to beg the understanding and patience of those in our life.  Just because we have a smile on our face, or we say we are good, or we say we are settling, or we seem ok, does not mean we are through.  Don’t expect me to be “through” this for at least a year.  I am doing well.  I feel more solid than before.  I have had moments of true joy.  I have many many moments of deep gratitude.  I even murmured aloud to myself last night as I pranced around Flame – “I love my life.  “ Shocked to hear those words, I checked in and then said it again, this time more deeply.  “I love my life.”  And, my skin is thin and raw in parts.  Push me too far and I crumble – at least inside.  Say the wrong thing at the wrong time and I snap.  I feel the edge approaching, my limit arriving and I want to run or scream.  I usually don’t do either.  I breathe instead.  I inhale life.  I pray.  And, sometimes I get shitty with some stranger who just doesn’t quite understand my current processing and computing challenges.  I feel bad about this and attempt to make as many amends as possible as I proceed.  I know I might get a softer welcome if I started with, “I am calling for more information about _______.  My house burned down so I am not processing information quickly.  Would you mind explaining ________”.  I am not inclined to begin every conversation this way so often I am met with impatience in my fumbling.  Deep breath.  I certainly spend my money with the people who are innately kind or patient.  I called 2 places before placing an order for an awning for Flame.  For the first 2, I explained, “I know nothing about how to measure for an awning or what type I need.  I am a novice.  Can you help me figure this out?”  It was amazing that both the first 2 responders chose not to be patient – or kind – I must say.  The third person was loving & gentle and welcomed me to the family of Vintage Trailer owners.  Guess who got my business. 

My beloved friend and I spoke again just now.  She (like many of us) is making herself wrong for her emotions.  I made them right.  Jesus people, whose expectations are we living up to anyway?  The people I want in my life are those that will get messy, feel deeply, express strongly, make mistakes, blow snot and moan like she-devils.  If that isn’t you, read no further.  If we can’t truly unwind and unravel with our peeps, what the fuck is the point?  There I said it.  The f-bomb.  Haven’t written it in a while. I have implied it but not written it.  Again, that inner circle thing.  You, my fine readers if you are still following this blog at this point, are the types of people I want to know.   The raw and the beautiful.  The wild and the wooly.  The deep and the brave.  YOU. 

I say to my friend.  I will catch you when you are falling.  Then you will catch me.  Then I will catch you.  We will catch each other.  We will hold each other.  Without you in this world, I don’t really want to stay.  I may want to vaporize without that type of love and support.  Don’t tell me that I would be ok without it.  I still have my attachments.  Most of them burned up, but some I still keep.  Yes, I (and we) am more resilient than hopefully I (and we)  will ever have to know.  But for now, I need these nourishing friendships to feed my soul.  I need to see my beloved’s soft and fragile underbelly.  I need to know you can stand in the fire with me.  We will burn up together and we will emerge like the Phoenix and dance in this crazy, wild world.