Update & 2015 plans

I haven’t posted since last summer – about time for an update, for the five or six people who follow this blog! Hello!

I’m writing from Texas, where I’m staying with my mother for the winter – sheltering while also helping her during recovery from her shoulder surgery last month. I need a place to be for the winter; she needs someone to cook, help her dress, and run errands. I’ll be here till mid-April, probably.

2014 recap: In the spring/summer I built my little yurpee and experimented with using an olla to create a fertility cell. After that, I had very little time at Somewhere. In late August I went to New Mexico for two months, then came back in October and again in November, briefly. I made some small improvements to the yurpee and, ever optimistic, sowed seeds in the orchard basin: buckwheat, pinto beans, yarrow, clover. Also, in a trench that runs from the road to the basin, wild roses (hips gathered in the Pecos). And a couple of peach pits!

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Correction

The astrologers are saying that this big event we’ve been experiencing, the Cardinal Grand Cross, which peaked yesterday, is for one thing about course corrections.

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Leaving Reevis and moving here to Apacheland was a manifestation of that kinetic in my life, clearly. But I didn’t know, when I came here, that another course correction was hovering, waiting for my beckon – this one maybe just as momentous, although not quite so outwardly dramatic.

Here we go.

When I left Reevis, I went right back to the work I’d been doing before – freelance copy editing, in which I have about 25 years of experience. My best former client took me back immediately – awesome. But I knew this wasn’t going to be enough money, and how to deal with that fact … I felt that question would be answered here somehow, in time. A radiant woman named Valerie taught me to trust and to follow my heart. Wise words are spoken more often than believed, but she did and had reason to, so I did, too.

And I’ve been trusting … but the digits in my checking account have been dwindling, and God hasn’t made any direct deposits. And there are things I want to do, more than just cover bills.

Monday, the emotions about this came up, childhood messages (I call it kid stuff) about powerlessness with regard to money, futility (even if I work hard it won’t pay off so why try so hard), inadequacy (I’m not good enough to make more than a bare living), etc. etc. … and some things about love, too … and … I’m telling this story, which I realize is getting long and probably will get longer, because it has such a lovely ending. Bear with.

So. I woke on Tuesday feeling oddly like I didn’t know what to do. Not just what to do that moment or that day, but in the largest possible sense. In a good, peaceful way … released from the cords of other people’s expectations and needs. Even my own. I felt the space (of the rest of my life!) open for me to CHOOSE.

Knew that I could decide for myself, based on whatever facts or desires or criteria I wanted to use. I could even decide how to decide.

Wow, as they say.

I woke with this new knowing just as God gave the world another beautiful sunrise – that juicy apricot sun just peeking over the horizon like a magnificent child playing a game – and with the obvious question (as day follows morning):

What do you want to do? What do YOU want to do?

Good lord.

So, immediately, a walk, a good long walk to the railroad tracks that are three miles away – my first exploration of the neighborhood. Returned two hours later, thirsty and leg-sore, with hands full of treasures (rocks and such) and heart full of OF COURSE.

Of course I’m going to write, and I’m going to make a living at it. What I’ve wanted in my heart since the first afternoon I was allowed to wander, seven and gobsmacked, among the sacred aisles of the “adult” floor of the Rochester Public Library. To be one of Those Who Write Books.

For three days now I’ve been running around screaming with my hair on fire because I feel – I KNOW – I finally get to do this! Knowing I can.

And I’ve been writing like a wild woman.

Apologies for this long-winded post, but this is to explain why my attention will be divided from here on out, between this land that I loved the moment I breathed its air, and this work that I’ve loved forever.

Maybe it seems simple, but it wasn’t.

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