Day 42 – Leave your soul at the door
Seven days until the cast is off. Fresh air and a cleaning, this leg will no longer feel soiled and in hiding. The damndest days behind me, I can circle back to the beginning, to consider the wheretofores and the whys of what got me here in the first place. Fickle patience, fickle heart, fickle commitment, I admit it’s hard to get me to stay in one place for any period of time. At my core, I have to move around, change my landscape, shift gears, rethink things. While I entertain easily, I don’t stay interested for long.
So I wonder how long I’ll do anything because I can’t seem to stay dedicated to what interests me at any given moment. This is not something worth struggling over. I’ve accepted this piece of who I am and embraced it. I’m “too old” to question myself about anything. I don’t like to complain, gossip or whine. When it happens it’s time to pause and hit the reset button and remember that at the heart of anything I do has to channel into staying the path of recovery.
Work is crooked. Derby is awkward. Home is blissful. My retirement plan hasn’t wavered in years – back in California, on the coast north of the Bay, growing wild flowers and making goat cheese. Maybe writing for a living if I can, or continuing to teach online. I want it quiet. Chaos throws me into a negative space I thrive on and stay sick in. Self-Check-Ins are always rough; when you think things are a certain way and the trajectory is in a particular direction and you’re forced to stop and take stock of This Moment, the clouds often part and reveal truths about your surroundings you may have been ignoring.
There are people better adept than I at avoiding emotional pitfalls. Me, I seem to have to just avoid environments altogether, which is embarrassing when people ten and fifteen years younger than me seem to dodge those bullets with great ease.
What happens to an unsettled soul with no host to call its anchor?
