Another Layer

It feels as though spring will never come. The cold and the snow just chase after me incessantly, as if sunshine and warmth would be a false representative of the cold misfortune that life loves to scatter in the road ahead of me.

I have many things to be thankful for. I have a new house, that will ultimately save me money, if I can miraculously avoid eviction within the first few months. It will be clean, it will be easy. I can not wait. As much as I love this beautiful spot, out in Tumalo, it has been killing me slowly with it's dust and it's trouble and it's broken down disfunction. Maybe it too closely resembles me, quirky and quaint but high maintenance and hardly worth it. So I will chase after something that in no way aligns with the rustic and dilapidated life that is mine: a new and comfortable existence, where I can pretend to be rich and stable and I can scratch out my survival in relative luxury.

I am in a place of examining, or reexamining, all of my values. Who I am, and what is important to me, and why. What I am willing to give up for something that I want more. Defining the things that define me. How do I want to live? Who do I want to be? So much is still unwritten, and yet the script is playing out daily like an out of control semi that careens destructively toward an unknown tragedy.

Once again I find myself bending the core of who I have become to embrace the new wave of change, perhaps the beginning of a new and different lifestyle, but then the bending starts to hurt, and I wonder if I have the flexibility to change or if the change will break me. Maybe I have become set in my ways and I can't be reformed to fit into someone else's mold. I am unsure.

I know what I want, I can see it, I can taste it, but I don't know how to get there from here, if there is a bridge, or if this tunnel I see before me will take me there or somewhere I don't want to be. I guess that is life. Determining whether the risk is ultimately worth it is the task at hand. Can I just enjoy the ride and see where I end up? Or will it come at great cost to me and my kids?

I am sad, I am bitter. I am frustrated and angry and I long for stability, and one night free of worry. I would love the chance to not worry about whether I will be able to pay the rent, or where I will work, or if I will be alone, or if I am not alone, if I will feel loved at all. And really, what is important? Is it the food on the table, or the smiles on the girls faces? Is is just survival that's important? Is it not bouncing checks, savings accounts and retirement plans? Is it passionate love and intense emotional experiences? What is it that makes this life worthwhile? Is it the day to day, the things that I still struggle to appreciate, the health of my kids, the realization that we have not gone hungry or homeless yet, in spite of the imminent threat.... Who knows? Certainly not me.

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I put on earrings. For the first time in years. I wore a skirt. I got dolled up. Ok. The hippie in me manifested. But I tried. And I swore I'd never do this again. Dragging the killjoys along who don't know. Don't understand. But here I am. Squished in with a Passell of 15 year olds and my friends are back against a safe dark wall. Rolling their eyes and pretending to be patient. Maybe next time I will make them pay for their own tickets. It's not like I expected them to understand. I don't. But I'm stupid enough to think that something that brings me so much joy would be fun for them. Wrong again. Story of my life. Always wrong. Oh well, maybe next time I will Remember why coming to shows is usually better alone. I was just tired of being alone. I still am. Alone and tired of it.