Been going through hard times the past few days. Within that journey there’s always nuggets of wisdom peeking out from the darkness. Navigating the confusion that arises in my mind is the only way to find the clarity that I seek. Bumping around the dark is required.
I’ve been rather silent here on my blog. The intent has always been to write the insights and the muddiness, to share the vision, to offer what I can to anyone who happens along.
One of my dearest friends, asked me last night if I’ve been writing about everything I’ve been going through. The answer was: “Sort of, no not really. In my journal somewhat each morning.” He has always encouraged me to write my experiences for everyone. To put my journey out on offer. It may be that my willingness to tread deeply into my own interiors, meet the God of my understanding in any locale, truly grow and stretch and change are of value to many.
It thus occurred to me that all I have to do to keep the blog going is to write my morning journal here, tidy it up as needed, and hit the PUBLISH button. Okay. Agreed. I’ll do it.
So, here we are.
It’s hard to know where to start with what’s going on, today. It’s hard to know what exactly to write in a digestible small packet for you. YOU. My reader.
My father was a writer. It’s been in my blood for as long as I have been alive.
I am a spiritual warrior. Nothing fancy, nothing on the outside to call your attention to it. Just another middle aged woman, kind of an old hippie, going about life trying to get by. But inside…
Inside, it’s all about my soul’s journey.
Who you are and what you have experienced will determine how you interpret that statement. So, stay open, my friend.
It is doubly or triply hard to write honestly here and tell my story because so many facets of it feel intensely private and not something I want most people to know. I feel like I have an image that I need to protect in certain parts of my life. For instance, my new real estate business and any of my business personas from jobs past. People I know or have known “professionally” might find this blog. What if they read it? What if they find out my failures and challenges? These things feel like weaknesses and things that I should be protecting, keeping hidden.
After all, isn’t that what we all do? Isn’t that how life proceeds? Choose your image and grow it hard and hide all the other shit in some closet in a back room.
Well, yes. That IS how we usually proceed.
But for whatever reason, if I am completely honest with myself about what my mission is, really, here on Planet Earth, it’s to counteract all that bullshit. It’s to shine a real light on the human journey and do what I can to show a way to complete authenticity. Someone’s got to do it first. If I keep waiting for someone else to make it safe for me to show up as me in all my messy confusion and all my glorious clarity and everything in between…
I’ll probably be dead before I ever share anything of value with you.
And, guess what? That is not acceptable.
So, here goes.
I am in Chapter 13 bankruptcy to try to protect my house and deal with an accumulation of credit card and medical bills. I’ve been in Chapter 13 for 20 months. I’m behind in payments. I got fired, yes, fired, from a job I loved at the end of February. I can’t and won’t talk too much about that because, frankly, I’m legally prohibited from doing so due to a legal settlement. I’m not even sure I’m allowed to say that, but fuck it. It was unexpected, cruelly done by my former employer, awful and painful for me, and it put me through a ringer that I’ve never been through before. In fact, I’m still coming out the other side of it. It set me up for another round of financial ruin as well as an emotional dive so deep I actually called the National Suicide Hotline one night. As you can see, a nice woman on the other end of the phone talked me off the ledge.
However, because in general this is how I roll, I picked myself up off the floor, got to work figuring out what to do, talked a lot with God (and listened even more), started a bunch of new business ventures of my own, commenced legal action against my former employer, got my real estate license and hobbled along.
As of today, none of these are really bringing in much money and all the savings and small legal settlement are gone in trying to get everything started and pay bills and eat. At any point, I could get a real estate client and close a deal and things would even out for at least a while. But, nothing as of yet and it takes at least 6 weeks usually for any deal to close and to get a check. I have one source of income and that is my Airbnb. It brings in between $800-1200 a month.
Oh yeah, before I go further, let me clarify: I am alone. Completely alone in this journey on a daily basis. I have cheerleaders and supporters in friends and family who love me. That is an immense blessing. But, in the little moments of time, I do not have someone I talk to about what is going on, no one to run my ideas by each evening, no one to help me get the car to be serviced, clean the house, make dinner, do the dishes, keep up the yard, or any other damn thing. It’s just me and what I can pay for. (I’m just telling you the facts, ma’am.)
So, now, here I am. Months behind in the bankruptcy payments, looking at a foreclosure action if the BK is dismissed, with about $6k in a IRA and not even $500 in the bank. Trying to come up with possible solutions, to figure out how to play that little bit of money into keeping the house and getting by until things turn around financially.
A couple days ago, it all became more than I could bear and the tears came. They linger just behind my eyelids, a tightness in my throat. There has been complete meltdown and inability to see clearly what to do or how to proceed. Fear and sadness have gripped me.
Yesterday afternoon, in the middle of a meeting with the owner of the real estate company I’m affiliated with now, I got an email from the grown daughter of the family in Santa Cruz, California who adopted my beloved dog, Jake, in 2010. At that time, I needed him to go to a safe and grounded environment as God called me onto the proverbial open sea in a boat without oars or sails (more on that story eventually, probably). I have missed him so deeply and silently for 8 years. And now, she told me what I already knew in my heart, he is dying.
I have no money to go see him. My heart aches beyond words. So much grief connected to the stories of my life. So much grief to walk as a human no matter what our story. And the grief is balanced by joy. All of it wrapped up in messiness and mistakes and victories and lessons learned.
I sit today in the mountains, on the front porch of my cabin home, listening the crows and cicadas waking up, sipping coffee, writing this blog, completely steeped in the unknowing.
Last night, talking to my friend, I realized (again) that there isn’t really any solution. That no matter the fact that I had a different plan, this is being offered to me now. This whole damn clusterfuck of life. This is it, baby. It’s not gonna look all pretty and tied up in a bow. This is the truth of life as a human. I have no idea what the hell is going on. I can’t control any damn thing.
This is Life. Let it roll.