Exploring Self

It has been a long, long while since I have written a blog.  Oh yes I still know how and I still have all those thoughts to share, express or sometimes vent.  These days though it seems keeping up with the spin of the world affairs is all consuming.  Troubling. Unsettling and at times down right overwhelming.

In the mix of all that I am constantly, like many of us, reviewing where I am with life.  Where I can fit in.  What seems comfortable what doesn’t.  We all just want comfort and peace.  I had that for while then I got the wild hair to pull out the easel, the canvases and go for being an artist.

I painted each day for months.  Enjoyed the release.  The creativity and support of those who saw my work.  Some things sold.  Others are stacked around.  I then went the next distance and began having products made from the images of my art.  That in some ways is a huge endorsement of one’s work to see it in a finished product.  The head spins a bit and it brings joy.  It is expensive joy though.

The past few days when things just felt too much.  Too much stuff.  Too much cost.  Too much effort.  Too much lack of satisfaction and certainly not peace.  I offered paintings to friends.  One declined which was surprising but then there has been a marriage since the last time we shared things.  So that change comes in to play to remind me things are no longer as those once were or will ever be again.   Other friends of course want a painting, product or two and that will help clear out.

What is the issue when I really think about it, is I now have too much stuff.  I don’t like having a lot of stuff.  I tried to settle into an area that doesn’t really suit me and in doing so kept thinking if I just add this or that to my house, then it will feel more like home.  Well all that does is become suffocating with stuff. More to clean.  More to deal with.  Books are one thing.  Yet with those I now read and return to the book nook at the library where I buy those.  Great discovery since now I can enjoy a good read for not a whopping amount of money and then donate it.  This way I buy at a very low price, enjoy the read then return for them to resale again bringing more money to the library.

I wish it could be that way with other things.  It isn’t though and to try to sell things in the area where I now live, doesn’t really work.  There doesn’t seem to be a market for much which is very frustrating.

So as the title to this says, exploring self is what I have been doing the past couple of days.  I was on track and have been for a long while.  Gaining momentum in the way I live.  Simply live.  Oh yes I have five cats however they are nothing compared to stuff or canvases everywhere.  I have to face that I fell into the rhythm of being part of an art league and thinking I could maybe be the artist I have always thought I was and in many ways am.  I just don’t like the accumulation of stuff.  Why I didn’t remember that when I began knocking out the canvases day after day and then moving into merchandise, I haven’t a clue.

Exploring self is not always pretty.  It reveals the dust that has accumulated within the soul.  The obstacles in front of one self to overcome maybe yet again.  It all came to me when I looked around and went wow, I don’t need a house this size.  I don’t need all these canvases even though I like most of my work.  I have enough.  I had enough before and I now have way too much of enough.  I want to streamline again.  I want to have my life simple because there is so much wealth in simple.

Simple and uncomplicated offer tremendous sense of self.  It is not the stuff and never has been with me.  Oh yes from time to time I fell into the social pressure however I am older and wiser now.  So while it is unnerving today and will be until I can clear out again and be down to a simpler life, I know in the journey of exploring that there can be flowers on the horizon.  There can be more good books.  There can be more money without the need for new canvases, paints and such.  There can be more freedom without chasing a source to sell the merchandise and constantly trying to help that work.

I know there can be a peaceful walk with camera in hand.  I know that as in times past, I will clear out and be back on track to a simpler life that lets one breathe more freely.

There truly is abundance in less and it takes exploring one’s self to rediscover that.  It is best to do so before the last chapter and live more freely with less. IMG_7039


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Charlie the Cat

IMG_0697.jpgAs it goes with cats they find a home where other cats live and then begin hanging out.  It has been a long while since I have written a blog however since from time to time this may be something others experience, I thought I would write about Charlie.

He began hanging out at my neighbors when her cat sitter left food out for the neighbor’s cat Reggie that she allowed to go outside.  Not really good for any cat and in some ways the lazy way of having a cat.  Or an uncaring way, in my opinion.  Of course a wandering cat will seek out food which is what Charlie did.

Then I realized the tenants in a house behind me had left their cat when they moved.  A huge not neutered male that soon became really awful looking.  So I put food out for him.  Canned and dried because I can not bear for a cat or animal to starve.  Meanwhile as he regained his well being, I searched for a rescue person who could catch and save him. That took a while to fit into her schedule.  Finally that was resolved and he now had a nice home down the lane and is thriving.  One of those nice successes.

Charlie apparently had discovered the food as well and began showing more frequently as time when on.  I tried not to become too attached because I felt he probably had a home since he was friendly.  I posted in on the site of next-door.com about him and a neighbor a street over replied that he had a home albeit not a good one.  Told me his name which is what I began calling him and that made him even more friendly.  So it became the ritual of breakfast and dinner.  He showed when he knew I fed my cats which is early in the morning and then late afternoon.  I gave him canned food and dried food.  A bowl of water and treats.  He hung out in the butterfly garden falling sound asleep under the plants which offer coolness and a nice hiding place.

It was so endearing to see him roll over on his back apparently feeling safe and comfortable.  So since I have five cats I began to ask around among the neighbors who will talk to see if maybe someone would give him a home.  Offering to pay for the cost of neutering and such.  No one wanted to bother.  In fact some just did not like him and felt he was not friendly.  Well that told me something about the people.  Cats are wise like that.

Time moved on, not years or anything just weeks and a couple of months.  Then I decided I would just take him.  Not really sure how it would work with my cats since I have two that are fifteen, one of which is a cranky ol girl who tries to rule everything.  Then there are two really sweet sisters who are eight and then a feisty young boy of three.  I felt maybe Seb the young boy and Charlie would have a nice time together so was willing to give it a go.

I had been feeding him just inside the side door of the garage so he will feel safe and eat comfortable.  One evening I closed the door.  I had set up all he would need for the night and planned to take him the next day to the vet for a change of life.  It was terribly hot.  I did not have a fan which would not have helped anyway.  So after a while of Charlie and I going back and forth about it all, he tried to push at the door.  I waited hoping he would just go lay under one of the cars and be cool.  It wasn’t happening.  Although now that I look back I should have just let him be and maybe all would have been ok.

I went back inside and came out a little later to find him really hot.  Again he was at the door so I reluctantly let him back out.  Not really sure why I did that other then he was really hot.  It was the only place I had for him until he was neutered and could hang out in the house with the other cats.  He was too street wise to mix with my inexperienced cats and not knowing his health, rather risky.  Even though I adored Charlie and so wanted to just take him in, I let him out.

He lay on the sidewalk by the door for a long while watching the birds and just cooling down.  Then as he wandered on his usual way, I told him I would see him in the morning and to be safe.

Well morning came and as I was putting his canned food on his nice red plate…real plate, glass plate, pretty and all, I was slammed with vertigo.  The type that tells you to wait until the boat is steady again because it always feels like being on a boat in rough seas.  A storm was out at sea and those always affect me and that morning it did.  So I did not wait outside to greet him or tell him good morning.  I didn’t set the food in the garage for him to meander in and eat.  I set it outside.  So I didn’t see if he came to eat or not.  Someone ate the way he did, the canned food and a bit of dried from the side of the bowl.   Yet I wasn’t sure it was him although didn’t think he hadn’t shown because he had done so regularly.

Then dinner came and he didn’t show.  I waited outside.  No Charlie.  I walked over to the neighbor’s house which is very overgrown where he like to hang out.  Called.  No Charlie. Same thing the next day and the next.  I posted him missing on next-door.com and the same woman who had told me he had a home, now told me he did not that he had been turned out a long time ago.  So I made flyers and posters.  Walked the entire area knocking on doors, leaving flyers since so many did not answer their doors.  I did this every day for now over a month.  People remembered him.  Said he hung out in their yard and thought he was cute but no one had bother to do anything for him.  Nor did anyone let me know he didn’t have a home.

I visited the shelters which is so incredibly sad.  Listed him missing on their sites and continued to walk the neighborhood and expanding my area to bordering streets.  Some were quick to tell he gruesome stories of coyotes and bears.  Others offered help and still look as I do.

Then I receive a message from a rescue woman who found a cat on her way home in the wee hours of the morning when she was returning home from feeding a colony of cats.   She sent me a photo she had taken.  The markings were all the same although the head seemed a bit larger and the neck more muscular then Charlie.  Also she said the cat was neutered and we know Charlie was not.

There are some parallels with all of this.  I let Charlie out on the evening of October 9 which was the date my husband had been killed thirty years prior.  I found out about him on the morning of the 10th.  Also the lane beside my house which is how I access my garage is the same name as the street we lived on in another city at the time of my husband’s death.  It seems weird that Charlie would disappear on those dates and if it is indeed him that was killed, it makes me question why a God would be so cruel.

Charlie didn’t so anything to deserve to be killed and in fact he always seem to avoid the street where the woman found the cat.  Still the time, the markings and all point to it being him.  I waffle back and forth about it.  The woman at first after looking at the photos felt sure it was him and then a few days later said she didn’t think so.  It is a tug of the heart either way.

To disappear the same month, same date as my husband from the same name street where we lived, seems the universe is sending a message.  I only hope Charlie has at long last found a wonderful indoor home.  That it is a mansion with great care, a lovely sofa to lay on and fabulous food.  There have been feathers tossed at my feet on my walks.  I use to consider that messages from those passed.  Since all this with Charlie, I have more or less lost faith that anyone is looking down.  That there is a truly a God.  A first for me however there is just so much meanness in this world.  For a God to take a sweet little cat  such as Charlie when he is adored by me makes me question the existence of a higher being.  And then there is the parallels…of what the hell.  Why?

I am still holding on to hope though that he will show up.  That he is ok and at times that is a strong feeling then I think of the cat killed by some uncaring, negligent driver and have the pangs of loss.  It would be a really cruel God who does that if it is indeed Charlie who was killed because I alway believed God knew all and would have known Charlie was adored and was getting a home the next day.   So it would be a very cruel God to rob him of that.

And so it is Charlie is missing and I miss that sweet little face.  The joy he had from the tummy rubs, the rubbing of his ears and all the touching in general.  He loved it while he ate and so enjoyed his food from his little red dish.  I hope he returns.  So hope he returns so that maybe the parallels will be denounced and there will not be any feelings of weirdness, bad vibes, energy and such.

I won’t repeat this mistake again.  It challenges trust.  It challenges faith.  It robs the day of the peace and joy I had.  I suppose a lesson is to always go with one’s instinct and I so wish I had taken Charlie long ago regardless of what the neighbor said of him having a home because it wasn’t a good one.  If only she had told me where I could have approached them however she wanted to protect the neighbor and not have issues.  So Charlie was compromised and I wish I would have just acted on his behalf.  I am sad and mad with myself for not.  I hope I have to chance to let him know.

So should a sweet cat wander up to your door and keep returning.  Take him/her in.  Give them a home and if it turns out they have a home well so be it.  We must take care of the animals.


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Wonderings and Wanderings

This morning a friend posted on Facebook about the conversion of a garage to a wonderful living space for a family including their two dogs.  Looking at the photos and the ease of the space, the freedom it offered, I realized that is exactly what I want.

In the past I have lived small and I have in the past six months downsized considerably from upsizing well beyond my need.  Yet I still have a yard to maintain and a house of fifteen hundred square feet which I realize to most, that is small.  Much smaller then what I had.

I really don’t need three bedrooms. Three beds, side tables, chests, lamps and all the extra bedding.  Once in a while my daughter and son-in-law come to visit however I live closer to them now and day trips are possible.

The only issue is, I have five cats and one of them does not get along with two out of the other four.  She has been this way her entire life and now almost fifteen, she simply isn’t going to change.  Yet it could be doable to live in a really small space especially since as the one featured in the post, has a small patio area that could be screened for cats.

The other thing this all brought about this morning which I suppose some can relate to, I want to stop doing what I have been doing and that is feeling the need to paint.  To try to create on canvas with the hope of selling.  That does happen however I am now rather bored with the entire process and too, I don’t particularly like the cost of the paints and canvases.  Plus it takes time from just living.  I think I have reached the point of feeling that I have achieved what I want to achieve in that area.

For most of my life I have been a writer and while not published although came close once and missed that opportunity due to some sideline influence, I still enjoy sitting and expressing.  Be those expressions as this of just feelings, or something of more importance with a purpose.

Recently I felt pressured into becoming a board member in a group I joined when I moved to my new area.  I believe it is keen to belong to museums and such when one moves to a new area because it is not only culture, it is a way to meet like minded people.  Yet with this group, I don’t really want to be a board member nor do I want to do what is needed.  I don’t want the pressure.  I simply want to live quietly and in peace.

So this morning with the post by my friend, I am wondering where to wander and leave all that I have known yet doesn’t seem to serve me any longer, behind. It seems to me I have enough art.  I could perhaps at another time stand before a canvas again yet it just becomes more to have.  More to store.  More to try to sell at some point.  For now I am feeling wanderlust.  Not so much to travel expansively, just to wander down to the nature preserve or drive over to the shore.  Without pressures of or yard, of creating, or belonging to groups, one has the freedom to do that.

Perhaps it is time to fold up the easel, give away the blank canvases and paints and just be for a while.  Return to writing again which doesn’t take space or cost anything.  It simply comes from the soul and the mind.

So I am wondering about wanderings and seeking something more fulfilling. Perhaps we all do with time.  Perhaps we all look at the blank canvas of life and say, well I want a different picture.  I don’t need this and I don’t want that.

Recently I read the book The Abundance of Less and while it was a walk through several people lives, some of which I could not live as they do, it was a nice eye opener to living simply and actually more richly.  Again the post this morning mirrored that concept and offered a more fulfilling lifestyle then dusting stuff or adding to already full closets.

Wondering and wanderings this morning seem to be a nudge by the Universe to look at a different path.  To walk that path with less and to feel lighter, freer as a result.  So perhaps that is the way for all of us to travel in these troubling times seeking wonderings and wanderings.

Peace everyone, simply peace.  Wonder and wander.





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Life Flowers

Friendship is much like flowers in the garden.  We nurture those and look forward to the beauty that we hope will eventually show.

Some never bloom.  Some bloom only for a short while and others stay for long periods of time.  We try to pull away the weeds that grow at the base to help the flowers be healthy and have space to expand.  We water to nourish and fortify.  We break away dead leaves and do what we can to prevent the take over of insects.

Just like friendships we do what we can to make those blossom.  We step into a friendship getting to know someone.  Who they are.  Their history.  Their life before us.  We share stories, experiences.  We sip coffee together or savor a glass of wine as the conversation flows.  We do what we can to keep the friendship going for a long, long time.

After all life is about the people we have around us.  They don’t even have to live near us to be a friend.  Yet a friend is someone who is good for one’s soul.  Who is not toxic and cause misery or belittlement.  There is mutual respect and mutual giving and taking.

I have had a friend for a number of years which even from the beginning we really were not exactly like minded.  We had nothing in common other then the same type of job.  It is though a job that feels like family at times.  There is a kindred spirit it seems as related to the day to day duties of the job.

She doesn’t read books as I do.  She doesn’t seem to have any real interest in anything..  She has no hobbies.  She would never share her age as I did.  She told me if I knew how old she was, then she would have to kill me.  A strange comment I always felt.  It borders on what else is hidden.

I met her just before my Mother passed.  She sent a fruit basket jointly with a few others I knew and then seemed to want to be friends.  So as time moved on I sat with her sipping wine mostly talking about the job and then for me about the loss of my Mother and the difficulties that came afterward with her estate.

We had many dinners together which I cooked and she brought nothing other then a bottle of wine for her self.  It was indeed lopsided but then I am a generous person so did not allow it to become an issue when all the while I should have. From time to time she would help me with something like move a small patio settee or a ride when my car was in repair.  That sort of thing that friend usually do for one another.

I moved away out of state and the dinners ended.  The friendship seemed ok from a distance with phone conversations.  The usual birthday, Christmas card.  Nothing really more.  Once in a while I would send cookies which I use to share when I lived nearby.  Something I do for friends.

There is an underlying anger within her which  becomes more pronounced with each sip of wine.  More times then not, I had to end a phone conversation because I was punching the air in frustration at the escalating anger.  I began avoiding talking with her at “wine time” and then seldom phoned at all.

After many years I returned to the same state although not the same town.  The promise was to visit.  To get together.  I made the invitation to come for Thanksgiving and she said she would.  So I bought a bed for a room I had other plans for so that she would have a comfortable place to sleep overnight.  Then all of a sudden there were excuses.  Many excuses.  All seemed to be laced around money.  She has always been one who is very tight and doesn’t like to spend money.  Always complained about this or that when in actuality she seems fine financially having inherited land, money from her Mother.

Dinners out in the past were always stressful because of the cost.  So when this was repeated with the cost being a factor I went overboard making the cost barely anything at all.  I was doing my best to keep the friendship that had actually died long ago alive.

A friendship that when I was punching the air during a rabid conversation, that I should have known was toxic.  That it needed to die.  Yet because my Mother harbored such anger my entire life other then her last five years, I kept feeling maybe I could somehow turn the anger around.  Yet like when a flower just is not going to live, we need to snip it so others that are healthy can grow.

After receiving a very hateful, attacking email, in which I was accused of every sort of thing toward her,  I did just that with the friendship.  When one is so angry they must want to reverse that anger themselves.  There is nothing that any one can do to change it.  We can try to go out of our way to offer kindness, encouragement, compliments, to attempt to nourish the soul.  Yet unless that friend, that person wants to be happy, there is nothing we can do to help.

So when it became so toxic for no reason and no responsibility taken, it was time to go snip, snip.  I don’t wish her any ill will.  I actually wish her well.  I hope at some point she will overcome the anger that is directed at so many in her path from the driver in front of her, to the server at the restaurant, to the friend who sincerely is trying to make things easier.  I so hope at some stage in her life she discovers that there can be happiness.  That it is ok.

I just don’t want to hang around to see if she will ever reach that threshold.  So now there is great space for other flowers to blossom and the ones that have been blooming all the while to beam.  The weeds have been removed.  The toxicity has been wiped away.  And life feels so much fuller, happier and with less burden.

It is something that everyone probably will encounter in their life.  I truly believe some people come into our lives at a time when we need to see more clearly on an issue and those people are only intended to stay for a while.  Not a lifetime as some are.  The lifetime ones are the ones who care and respect.  Those are the true flowers of the garden and the ones to nourish.  We don’t need many flowers to have a garden.  We sometimes only need one beautiful blossom yet we can have a full bouquet when there is a healthy, nourishing environment.

So I encourage all of you who read this to stand tall to your values.  To not try to continue a friendship that needs to just fade away.  To kick dirt as a friend said, if you have to and move on because life is not about anger. Life is about beauty.  It is about joy.  It is about laughter.  It is about peace.

So may your garden flourish today and always.




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Those Highs, Those Lows

We get so caught up in all the activity of holidays regardless of religion or traditions.  We move about decorating, preparing foods, buying gifts for weeks ahead.

There is so much anticipation even for adults.  Older adults who no longer have a need to buy toys or perhaps even make that special dinner.  It remains a time of anticipation.  Anticipation that balloons into consuming us for days ahead.

Then the day finally arrives.  Family comes.  Although that varies with age and location.  Sometimes it is impossible to share holidays with family for many reasons.  One has to move away for a job or other economic demands.  We try to fill the void.  Then years past and it almost seems foreign to share a holiday with family.

This year I had the pleasure after twelve years of spending holidays alone, to spend the day with my daughter and son-in-law.  Two huge pointer dogs in tow which like small children became the focus of the day.  Yet it was not lost on me that we had not been able to celebrate holidays in years.  Even before the twelve years my daughter and I lived in the same town however we were both airline crew members.  Airline crew, like many other professions, police, nurses and such seldom see a holiday off.  So we became accustom to celebrating on other days.  No big deal right.

Well actually it doesn’t feel so right because it just isn’t.  So for me yesterday was very special.  I was winding down on reading the final pages of Joe Biden’s book, Promise Me, Dad. The book is beautifully written.  Very touching.  Very informative and very inspiring.

As I finished those last pages and then gave the book to my son-in-law to read, I realized not only was I grateful for sharing the day with my daughter, son-in-law and the dogs, I was very grateful in other ways.

Those other ways are that I am grateful in my life time that I experienced a President and Vice President of the United States who actually had class.  Who brought no drama to the office.  Who had the well being of the people in mind and did so even when privately, like for Joe Biden, life was not so kind.  I maybe, like others didn’t appreciate how great things were at the time, however I certainly do now.

Other ways I realized that I am grateful on a daily basis is for the people I have met, maybe not all of them are friends yet they brought something beneficial to my world and  I hope me to theirs.  For example yesterday evening, I received a text from a man in the small town where I lived until recently.  A place that brought great strife and sadness to my world.  The man is a council member for that town and oddly when I read Joe Biden’s book, he had come to mind as being so much like Biden in wanting to be the change.  Wanting to make a difference.  His text was to wish me a happy holiday and a good new year ahead.  That is all wonderful but he included “my friend” and that in the realm of things was of great magnitude.

So it made me realize just how grateful I am now for all those years of strife.  For all the struggles.  The meanness of others towards me for no real reason.  I am grateful that I stuck to my values and quietly did things without show and thus walked away with people like this man who consider me their friend.

It has no monetary value.  There is no gift to unwrap and find a place for to perhaps enjoy later yet just like the time with my daughter and son-in-law, it made the day even more special.  It made me so very grateful for all those I have met in my life.  For all those who have left my world for whatever reason, death or just life.  And I am grateful to be reminded there can be happy times again.

I received a grapefruit tree from my daughter and son-in-law which was promptly planted in a perfect spot that at the time, I did not realize I would see from my kitchen or when I walked through the adjacent room.  It stands tall and will remind me of them, the day and the thought behind it.  They also gave me a stereo because I had donated mine before moving and did not have one.  My daughter knows how important music is to me and the void I must be experiencing with out it.

I set that up today and played a CD or two which as music does touches your soul of when and how that music affected you maybe even long years ago.  Music is something else to be so grateful that we have because it brings people together.

So while today I feel the emptiness that comes after an upbeat holiday, that aloneness that settles in. I am very grateful for the hope that I gained from being with my family and the crazy, fun loving dogs.  I am grateful I happen across the wonderful book and all that brought to me in a much deeper way then I had anticipated.  And I am grateful for the text that reminded me that maybe in some way I connected with a few people in that odd little town and maybe in someway I had an impact.

I am motivated to try to do more.  To be more active in life and not just ride the saddle of time.  I have hope again because of all that I recognize as gifts that came to me in different packages.  Different wrappings.  Yet all very valuable gifts.

So may we all move forward into the new year with gratitude and hope in our hearts.  May we all take that extra step to make a difference.  May we all reach out our hand and may our voices be of change.  May we all notice the gifts in those different packages of time.  In those who have different wrappings.  And by doing so may we step forward for peace in the new year through the highs and the lows.

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Moving, Again

The boxes are never thrown away.  Just simply stashed because there will always be IMG_7516another move, it seems.  From this house to a next.  I should be happy that my house has sold and on some levels I am.

It has been a lot of work to maintain the lawn, the house in general and I have never fit into the town where I live.  As much as I tried and as much as I wanted,  I was the one to blame the issues, to be called the trouble maker, to be cast aside.  That is not really so bothersome because I grew up in a small town out in the country and was never able to be included because I did not live in town.  I had created my world, as I do now.  Although, today when I looked at all the stuff I have, all the memories, the aloneness and the burden of another move, feels very heavy.

I am very sad to leave the sweet kitties that have passed while living in the house and who are buried on the property.  It seems a form of betrayal to them.  They were all special.  All came with their history of hardship from this little town.  I worry what the new owners will do to their little graves.  I have placed plants on top of each one however the new owners may dig them up and toss them in the trash.  They don’t deserve that.  So it will break my heart to drive off and leave them even though I know they are enjoying a better life in heaven.

It is the type of heaviness and sadness this town has brought to me.  The other cats are so settled in this house.  So comfortable with the big windows.  The space to roam and I don’t know yet where we are going.  It is as always, life becomes all about money.  What and where I can afford.

I long for the familiar.  I long to be settled and have for a long time.  I long for the chance to just cozy in and know I will stay for a long time.  That the cats will not be uprooted and as they pass, know I won’t have to drive off and leave their remains buried to the chance of a new owner.  I long for all of that.  I long for people to welcome me and include me even though I may not have as much money as they do.  Or be able to put on the show by being flamboyant or phony.

Being a top dog has never mattered to me.  What has always mattered to me is being kind to other people.  Being kind to animals.  Doing what I can so no one goes hungry or that a cat doesn’t have to live a mistreated life or go with out food.  I try to treat the wild animals that venture on my property the same.  Offering them food at night and water because they are beneficial too.

Yet will the new owners do all that.  It is doubtful.  Very doubtful.  They will breeze in to the house, the town and be well received.  They will play the game it takes to be top dogs in  this small village where I have lived for close to twelve years.  In some ways the longest I have lived anywhere.  They will oohed and ahhhed over.  They will play the game and probably enjoy their time here.

So today, I am sad.  Sad that I will be leaving what is familiar even though it is an empty existence.  I am sad that I have to leave my sweet cats that have passed and not be able to care for their little graves.  I am sad because I have memories of them in this house.

Yet it is expensive to live in this little town so I must look elsewhere and hope somehow I can find a place to fit in for a change.  A place where my cats will be comfortable and where maybe, just maybe I can live out the rest of my life.

Moving makes me wish I could just erase it all and go back to the beginning of things.  Go back to how things were when life felt better.  When family still lived and friends were around.  When my old hardship case cats roamed around and enjoyed a peaceful afternoon nap.   It comes with age though when people go on to the higher level.  When our pets leave us too.

It is silly I know to allow a move to bring sadness.  It is silly to long for the past when one can never bring it back.  It is silly to not see the opportunity that lies ahead regardless of where that may take the cats and me.

I know like in the previous times, this too shall pass and I will gather momentum of filling the boxes of stuff I have no interest any longer of having yet for some reason keep packing into the boxes.  Always thinking that maybe the next place I will have a use, or maybe the next place will truly be home.  In actuality, I really don’t need much and would just as soon wipe the slate clean and keep just a few things.  After all life really is about the memories and not about the things.

So I will, I know, rally and when the time comes drive away keeping the memory of the sweet kitties who passed.  The memories we shared in the house that was always a bit too much for me.  The memories of all the efforts to make the place home albeit if just for the cats.  I will move forward and know that there is the chance that the next place may just be it as long as there is a wonderful screened porch for the cats to enjoy.  As long as it is a safe place to live because in my heart, I know who I am.  I know that whether or not I fall into the mix doesn’t really make me any different and I know too that those who build the fence to keep only the chosen ones in, are truly the ones who loose.

One must leave the harbor to catch the wind and that is I suppose is what moving is all about.


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Awkward Moments

Time slips up on one.  The holidays come.  The months pass.  Then before long there is yet another threshold birthday.

Those of us who reach a certain age, watch as the young take our place on the stage of life.  We read the body language.  Hear the scoff to what we say or think we can still do.  Yet we know we can and we do not feel any older then the ones who have seized the stage we once danced.

Party invitations no longer come to the cool parties.  Visitors no longer respond to overtures to go to a club to hear a musician.  After all we are not cool.  We do not wear the three inch heels because we are wiser to those and know there is no reason to be that uncomfortable.  So we retreat to the words of a book to loose ourself to the lives and capers that an author presents on the page.

If one is really in tune as I have always been my entire life, given the gift of being able to really read people, they sense more deeply then others the awkwardness that seeps from one trying to find their way away from the chat.

It is not that life is not enjoyable or that there is no fun, it is though the forced awareness that we have become the paper on the walls and not welcome among the chairs, the sofas, the lively world that exists in the room.  We are reversed to what we are told as children back in the day, we are to be seen but not heard.  Our money is welcome, however we are not.

We dress ourselves to go to an event far better then the other younger and sometimes even our peer group.  We attempt in doing so to offer respect to those hosting the event or the person/artist of the event because we know this is the right thing to do.  Yet that doesn’t work either.  We have to face that if it was not an event we paid for entrance to attend, we would not be included.

It is an awkward place to be in life because most who reach the older years really would like to hear not just chit chat, we would like to know what makes a person.  What those avoiding us are really thinking about life.  What their dreams are and what they are bringing to society today.  We really are not out of touch even though the attempt to push us in the corner is always hanging around.

I know this is not true across the world or probably even in a large city like New York or San Francisco.  It is however the way in small towns when a trendy group of wannabes blow into town and become big fish in a small pond.  It is like the ones in high school who are popular and the others who are left out.  It is a strange yet interesting movement to watch.  It is also probably a very short lived movement.  Wannabes are just that wannabes and the time comes when they too age, or they are just no longer cool and they too become the paper on the wall.

Yet that doesn’t ease the awkward moments that come when a wise older woman wants to hear a bit of music,  see some outstanding art or enjoy the fruits of a talented chef.  Sometimes I know this does not just apply to those who have had one or two threshold birthdays, it happens to those perceived as not being cool enough and that is sad.

I wish there was a way for all of us to smoothly blend and everyone pulled from the wall to be part of the party.  Pull those awkward moments into smiles, handshakes and lively, interesting conversation.  Yet it is life.  Life particularly in the small towns, the crevices tucked away in larger places and for sure in the realm of the United States, is just rather superficial and will always be that way, I suppose.  It is wise to just recognize it and move with grace to enjoy what is important to us even though we notice, feel and know there are those who will always feel uncomfortable with someone not quite like them on their stage in life.  Yet the stage is large and they too will perhaps watch as the audience begins to wain and wish they had been more open to everyone because some really wonderful moments were probably missed.  Ahhh  the life of the wannabe so afraid to step away from the stage and embrace those awkward moments that bring depth and beauty to one’s life. That would just not be cool.

And so it is the awkward moments as we step away from those, heading home to our books we sense a bit of peace knowing it is not us, it is sadly them.  The characters in the books are so much more friendly and endearing and that in itself is rewarding for those awkward moments.  And thankfully so, there will always books just as there will always be wannabes.

Life is a big stage, though and we must step down from the wall and dance.  Yes indeed we must dance.


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