Who are You? (Part 2)

Since I wrote about who I am currently, I thought it might be a good idea to write about who I want to be. I'm an impatient sort who hates the thought of taking baby steps toward a goal; however, trying to span the chasm in one giant leap doesn't seem to be working, so I'll try a different tact.

I want to be (a): bookstore/pagan shop owner, wildlife educator, child-like, living in an eco-house designed by my husband and me, founder of a no-kill animal shelter, hopeful, publisher of a magazine/newsletter about animals or nature/ecology, best-selling author, founder of a pet cemetery, eco-crusader, unafraid, playful, world healer...

It's hard not to be discouraged. I feel like some of those things are such lofty goals that I'll never reach them. I'm not sure where to start, how to start. I hate feeling defeated before I even begin - that negates the purpose of even trying. Optimism would probably help right now, but I'm not feeling it. I don't know why being true to oneself has to be so hard.

Who are You?

Over the past few months, I've been trying to determine who I am. I've been reading books and taking tests and still, I'm left with little clarity. Eventually, I understand there will have to be a time when I stop reading about doing stuff and actually start doing stuff- you can only prepare for a test so long before it's time to actually sit down and take the damned thing.

When I sit and try to think of my passions and what I'd like my life to be, I start to feel stymied and stonewalled and restless and defeated. I did a couple online tarot readings, just to psychically test the proverbial waters, and both were disastrous - malicious intent, legal problems, failure. For the reading I did this morning, my outcome card was the Devil reversed. I can't imagine getting a worse card in the outcome spot. This cannot bode well, and I admit that it made me a bit edgy.

Fortunately, I put more stock (not that I base my entire life on what's revealed during divination, but it does have its value) in the gentler readings I get from my Animal Medicine cards. I did a reading a couple weeks ago where I asked for guidance as I was feeling suffocated and stymied. The basic gist of the reading was teach others what I've learned, be still and open myself to messages coming from all around, let go of baggage, and stop being afraid. Okay, that's a lot more hopeful than the destruction and carnage promised in those online readings.

As I attempt to discover my passion in life, I thought it might be helpful to write down who I am so I can get a clearer picture of where I am right now and where I need to go. You pretty much need to determine a starting point before you can plot how to best arrive at your destination.

So here goes...

I am (a): Virgo, daughter, wife, friend, cat caretaker, secretary, water phobic, passionate about animals and the environment, Amazonian (at least in spirit), good Witch, critical, realistic/pessimistic, humanist, hateful of hypocrisy/dishonesty/injustice, lover of medieval stuff (garb, speech), voracious reader, lover of unusual words, mythology and ancient Egypt buff, out of shape, healer, teacher, meat eater, good driver, hockey fan, Scanner, musically inclined, sentimental, wary of change, organized...

That's all I've got for now. Hopefully there'll be more to follow.

Love Lost

It was three years ago almost to the minute that I lost my precious, sweet Tommy. He had grown too ill to remain in his body, and I had to make the wrenching decision to let him go. I remember the ride to the vet when I kept telling him it would be okay, he wouldn't have to hurt anymore, he would soon be free. I remember the light going out of his eyes. I remember the gnawing, unforgiving, nearly all-consuming pain that gripped me for days afterward. I remember sitting out by his grave the next day, watching the sun rise and wondering how life could go on when my heart was shattering. I remember crying and crying and crying and thinking I'd never be able to stop.

Eventually, the constant tears abated, but the heartache remains, even three years later. I miss you, little Piglet. Thank you for your love and for the laughter you gave me. I know you're one of the brightest stars in the heavens because you were such a brilliant light on earth.

Goodbye, My Friend

(written by Karla Bonoff 1988)

Oh we never know where life will take us

I know it's just a ride on the wheel

And we never know when death will shake us

And we wonder how it will feel

So goodbye my friend

I know I'll never see you again

But the time together through all the years

Will take away these tears

It's okay now

Goodbye my friend

I've seen a lot things that make me crazy

And I guess I held on to you

We could've run away and left well maybe

But it wasn't time and we both knew

So goodbye my friend

I know I'll never see you again

But the love you gave me through all the years

Will take away these tears

I'm okay now

Goodbye my friend

Life's so fragile and love's so pure

We can't hold on but we try

We watch how quickly it disappears

And we never know why

But I'm okay now

Goodbye my friend

You can go now

Goodbye my friend

Oh No She Did'int

I called my boss a "stupid Alzheimer's-ridden bitch" today.

Granted, it was in an email to my husband but still...when you start referring to your boss in such glowing terms, it's well past time to move on.

I get a daily horoscope emailed to me, and for the past two days, this is what the Career section has said: You've got a bone to pick with a higher-up, but this just isn't the right time to pick it. Sit quietly and bide your time. Give it two weeks.

I hope that means I'll have found a new - and better - job in two weeks. [Aside from the whole panic about not having a paycheck, I don't even think I'd mind if I got fired. Not on an emotional level, anyway. The practical level - having bills to pay - is another story, however.] Or that we'll win the lottery within two weeks. Or that SHE'LL get another job within two weeks.

Naww, I'd rather *I* get a better job. Leave these people in the dust and never look back. I'm tired of that place and pretty much everything in it. I feel hypocritical every second I'm there. If I could out and out say, "I don't like you people so just leave me be, and it'll make things so much easier," that would be fine. But I can't. So I have to smile and to pretend I like them, when all the while I'd rather be having a root canal. THAT is a lot less painful than having to play make-believe every day.

A week or so ago, my husband said, "That job is crushing your soul."

No truer words have been spoken.

Turn and Face the Strange

Autumn, it seems, will be a time of changes.

After living on her own for over two years, Mom will be moving in with us, probably next month. She receives Social Security and wages from a cleaning job, but she's unable to make ends meet, and the logical conclusion was for her to come live with us. She'll basically be inhabiting the lower level of the house, and she's already fearful of being "in our way." Hopefully she'll settle in and settle down without too much anxiety.

She's currently enmeshed in trying to sell her property. She's never liked the old house where we lived and once Dad died, she was eager to sell and move to a place built within the last century. The asshole developers who signed a purchase agreement to buy the property are basically giving her the run-around and have held things up since 2006.

When the idea of selling the land first came up, I had a hard time with it. The old house and surrounding farmland have been in my family for decades, and there are memories and ghosts wrapped up in that soil. I don't do well with goodbyes, but I was able to put my grieving on the back burner when the sale stalled and Mom continued to live there.

But now that she's going to live here, the house will be abandoned, and that makes me incredibly sad. Having to say goodbye is a closer reality now, a chill upon my soul, the start of a hole that will eventually burrow completely through my heart.

I went back to the house on Sunday, and I felt the grief welling as I made my way up the driveway. Moving around inside felt familiar yet strange - it was home but it wasn't.

There's an ancient oak in the backyard - a guardian who witnessed and blessed my wedding, as my husband-to-be and I stood beneath its spreading limbs and pledged our devotion to each other. It nearly died quite some time ago but it came back, gnarled and scarred but still full of life. Once the land belongs to someone else, I'm sure that old friend will be destroyed, and it breaks my heart. On Sunday, I stood with my hand against its thick bark and cried for the grief I feel now and for the grief to come.

I wish we would win the lottery so I could pay Mom for the land and keep it intact - perhaps create a park named for my father so the legacy of my part of the family line would live on, even after I'm gone.

Tears fall like the leaves. I know the Wheel will turn and things will change, transform, pupate from caterpillar to butterfly. I know this to be true, but for right now, I don't have to like it.

Chaos Take Me

I have a recurring dream that features tornadoes. Eventually, I came to the realization that I usually have these dreams when my life is stressful, so I've taken to calling them my chaos dreams.

The setting is always my childhood home - I'm sure there's a deep psychological reason for that, I just haven't quite put a finger on it yet. Typically, the tornado(es) pass by the house or I wake up just before they hit the house. Not so on Thursday night.

In the dream, I was standing in the doorway between the living room and kitchen. My mom was sitting in a chair at the kitchen table and my (deceased) father was in his easy chair, which was tucked away in the corner of the kitchen. There was no panic. A bit of apprehension, but no outright fear. The tornado passed over the north portion of the house. I could feel the pressure inside the house changing, and I felt like I was being sucked upward but I managed to keep my feet on the floor. I kept chanting, "Keep it together, keep it together," as though I were imploring the house to stay in one piece. The tornado moved west and did some damage to one of the sheds on the property, and then I woke up.

It's no surprise that this dream was visited upon me right now. My life feels quite out of control at the moment. My job is going to hell (which is probably ironic, considering I work for a church); the plumbing in our house has been screwed up for over a month so we haven't been able to take a shower or a bath, and standing in the tub pouring a bucket of water over yourself doesn't quite cut it; money has gotten tight, which makes me nervous; and there's always the low-level concern I feel about the state of the world.

Hopefully soon, our plumbing will be fixed (plumber's coming out Monday); I'll get a job I enjoy; we'll win the lottery (which would preclude the whole job thing completely); and a new president will be able to create some semblance of sanity from the wreckage left by the Bush administration.

Breaking Point

I believe I have reached mine.

We haven't been able to use our upstairs bathroom for about a month because all three water-consuming facilities (toilet, tub, and sink) are leaking. Hopefully we'll have some resolution (in the form of gods-awful expensive repairs) by the end of the month.

The downstairs shower is leaking so we can't use that. If you read my husband's blog, you'll know why we can't use the downstairs tub, whose repair hinges on a type of faucet that they apparently don't even make anymore.

Due to the downstairs tub issue, we've had to rip up part of the carpeting because it started to stink like a wet, dead dog, and I'm going to assume we'll have mold growing inside the wall under which the water seeped.

Something so stupidly infuriating happened at work that I was ready to quit on the spot and am now entrenched in the hunt for a new job.

I might need an MRI for an ongoing back problem.

We took our cat Oliver to the vet today, and he has gum/tooth problems that will require (expensive) teeth cleaning and perhaps tooth extraction. This is stressful to me in a multitude of ways.

Add to that the troubles of the world which I can't totally block out, and I'm ready to curl up in the corner and cry until I'm exhausted.

While the logical part of me realizes that none of these are "end of the world" scenarios, the emotional part of me is fed up and wants to pitch a holy fit complete with insane crying jag.