Yesterday morning as I was climbing in the car with my daughter I looked at the familiar horizon to the East of my temporary home and was struck with the thought, Huh, that doesn't look familiar! All the trees that have shielded this property from the highway for the past 10 years had been torn down, why? so the city can replace them with a wall, a wall built high enough to give some protection from the highway and the exit noise. Now mind you, from the day he moved into this house Doug bitched and moaned that everyone else had a sound barrier wall on their exit and he was hopping mad that the city didn't give him one. So now he gets his wall, someday. Like everything else in this city and valley, it will take some time but the trees have been taken away in preparation for the future project and that felt like another nail in the coffin of my resolve to move from here. It also felt sad, the exposure to the traffic makes me feel naked and vulnerable to the whims of someone I have never met who thinks that trees are expendable and that concrete blocks are preferable.
Granted, I did immediately see this as a sign that I have made the right decision with moving on and I was grateful for the validation, but I still felt sad and a little angry. Speaking of angry, I had some deliveries to my door yesterday also, most of them I expected and they were for me, but one of them was for the woman who is buying the house. The audacity of shipping a Fed-Ex package to a house that you don't own that is occupied by the folks that have lived there since in was built seems immense. Another sign? Maybe or just poor taste mixed with entitlement. I complained to the realtor and tossed the package in to the corner. Immature on my part, probably, but it was the best that I could do at that moment.
Jesse packed 3 1/2 boxes of books for me yesterday. The empty bookcase is a stark and welcome reminder to me about what I am supposed to be doing right now, moving. My ability to keep to the task comes in waves with the peaks of motivation and energy far apart. I am trying to be gentle with myself in this process but there is gentle and then there is comatose. Many opportunities for service and magic have popped up in the past few days and I would like to think that I have met them well. The problem is that I worry that they are distractions from the task at hand. Or maybe they are small rewards for doing what I am able to do when I am able to do it.
We went to a mantra concert last night and sang for almost 3 hours, I could feel Doug's warm, loving presence throughout, especially when we chanted for protection. Sitting with Jesse and just being in the moment of breath, prayer and community while our departed sweeties swirled in and out of my consciousness weaving our tapestry a little tighter was soul soothing. I pray for more moments of misty clarity like last night, it was a lovely respite from my list making, worrying reality.
I had a haircut this morning, sitting in the chair very tired from not enough sleep hoping that Zach could cut and style away the "crazy lady who just had electro-shock therapy" look that I have been sporting lately, knowing the look probably suited the state of my mind but not wanting to be reminded of it when looking into the mirror every day.
So I look more chic and slightly less crazy and still the open boxes are begging to be fed books and other sundries, no packing fairy showed up in my momentary absence. Damn, I don't want to do this! But then I think about the missing trees and the daily rapes and murders that this particular location on earth is littered with. So I will heave myself off the couch and start packing yet again, praying for guidance and strength as I slowly let go of this home that I shared with the love of my life, all the while understanding that while it is painful and annoying, it is completely necessary.
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