Everything is Possible

It’s been a long while since I posted, mainly because little was happening with the book. It was with the proof reader and all I could do was wait. Sure, there was the next book to begin work on, but it felt as if time stood still while I waited for the first one to be polished.

Finally, it was back in my hands. I spent an entire day going over each change suggested and either accepting or rejecting them. More time consulting with the editor. A few more changes and I fired it back to the editor, waiting for a final chat this weekend before it was given to the literary agency that has some interest.

It’s kind of a surreal moment. I’m like a plucked harp string – thrumming with excitement. Everything is possible… perhaps not probable, but possible. For instance, it is not probable that I will top J.K. Rowling in sales, but it is possible I will publish this book and finally be able to support myself doing what I love. It’s also possible it will be very successful, be turned into a movie, and I’ll get sucked back into the very industry I fled. Or it’s possible it will get published, fail, and I’ll still have to find another way to earn a living. Who knows. It’s pretty much all possible.

I feel change on the horizon, and as I drove to work the other day, I reminded myself to be present because it’s possible my life could be changing. And I have been far more mindful. Two years after I replanted myself in Missouri, it still feels like paradise. I sit at my desk to write this blog and look out across the green field in front of me, binoculars nearby to watch the little red foxes that live in the park and sometimes come out to play… as well as the human wildlife that occasionally jogs by on their way to the greenways trail. I have just come in from sitting on my sun porch, sipping on my first batch of homemade kombucha, and eating a couple of mulberries from my neighbor’s bush that drapes into my yard. We had a delightful thunder storm last night, and today puffy white clouds with dark undersides push their way across the sky, telling me more storms are coming. Tonight I will go to a drumming circle with my friends at the Friday Night ArtWalk.

It all feels perfect. In the past two years there has not been one microsecond of regret for the move.

Perhaps that’s what made it easier for me to absorb the latest bad news, when I found out the book is being put on hold just a bit longer. My editor is unexpectedly unavailable until next week, and once again I’m cooling my jets and putting my dreams on pause. One silver lining, I am pleased with my ability to absorb the disappointment and not get dejected. In LA, the frustrations had piled up to the point where even the slightest disappointment led to a spiral of despair – proving to me once again that I was never destined for a career as a writer – that the universe was conspiring against me. This time I took a deep breath and went on with life. No big deal. So, if that was the test from this hiccup, I think I passed.

I’m grateful to have made some personal progress, if not book progress. I’ll focus on that for now. It’s good to take the time to notice when you handle your struggles a little bit better, and then celebrate it. So what did you handle better today than you did last year? Give yourself some credit for improvement. Celebrate. Look out the window. Listen to the birds. Take it all in, before it changes, because it will. It’s inevitable.

Hopefully the next time I post, it will be with the news that I have an agent, or the news that I am continuing the hunt for one.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedinmailby feather

Homeless

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about home. The other night I was driving “home” to a house I rent in a town where I was a stranger a year ago. The road to and from work has already become familiar enough that I can mindlessly drive it, but put me on a road just a few blocks away, and I would be in completely unfamiliar territory. In fact, most of the city is still a mystery. How can I call that home? Do I have a home?

According to Mirriam-Webster, home is a place where one lives. Simple. If that’s the case, then yes, my home is the rented house in a new town. However, the word ‘home’ is filled with so much more meaning in our culture than that simple definition. Sanctuary, refuge, a safe place where you can be yourself – that is all tied into the word ‘home.’

Then there’s “home is where the heart is.” That’s a lovely sentiment, but without my own family or spouse, it still leaves me drifting. It leads right back to asking myself, “What is home, and do I have one?”

Is home the farm where I grew up? That one was easy. No. In fact, I felt so out of place in my community, school, and even family that from the moment I knew I could go somewhere else, I started dreaming of my escape.

At 17 I made that escape to college, and never looked back. I felt I belonged in my college community, and reveled in the friendships I made there that have lasted a lifetime. It’s good to visit those friends, and there is a sense of coming home to people who know me, but it’s still not home.

Perhaps my home is Los Angeles, where I lived longer than any other place. However, in a city of millions, I was no one’s priority, and when I needed help I was usually on my own. Life there felt like a 25 year walk on a tightrope without a net. There was no place of refuge – no soft place to land. When I think of going home, LA definitely does not come to mind.

Which brings me here. Is Missouri home? For the moment it is. It’s where my bed is. It’s where my stuff is. I feel accepted and supported. If I were to fall, there are people who would try to catch me. It’s where my rented house actually provides me security and a safe place to be. But is it home? I’m not sure.

Looking back over my life, I realize that my early experiences of not fitting in have sent me on a lifelong quest to find home. Perhaps it is one of those journeys where I will realize one day that I was always home. The only thing I know for sure is that If I were Dorothy, and clicked my heels while repeating, “there’s no place like home” I have no idea where I would wake up. For now, Missouri will do, and with time perhaps it will become home.

Where is your home? What makes it home to you? What wisdom can you share about finding home?

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedinmailby feather

It’s Written in the Stars

Every now and then I do something completely out of character for me. I did that this week and saw an astrologist. Now, this will probably offend some and cause others to roll their eyes. I put myself in the 2nd camp. You see, I find the entire idea of planets orbiting millions of miles away having anything to do with my life utterly ridiculous. There were other babies born the day and time I was born. Are we all having the same lives? Horoscopes are so vague that they could apply to anyone. Astrology is sheer nonsense on a scientitic and rational level.

However, as one person explained it, there are many people who have psychic gifts, or if that title offends you, people with perceptions outside of the normal realm. Using dates, planets, and charts is just one way to channel those perceptions and gain insight. Others use numerology, or tarot cards, or pendulums… all equally nonsensical in a scientific light. Since I have some of those unusual perceptions and know they’re legit, I can live with her explanation, tamp down my utter disbelief in the system, and see what they have to say.

Why would anyone do this when they don’t really beleive? Simple. It’s an excellent tool for gauging my desires. Last year, when I first consulted this astrologist, I had pretty much already decided to move to Missouri, but there was still some doubt. Was I giving up too soon? If I hung in a little longer would things swing my way? Was life going to be just as difficult there? I wanted to get another pespective and see what my reaction to it was. During that first reading she told me all the planets were aligning and I was about to have a huge career in entertainment. My reaction?… a primal scream in my head that said, “NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” While I have no idea if she was right, my reaction told me all I needed to know. I did not want that career. I truly was done with Hollywood and wanted out. That alone was worth the cost of the reading. My decision, despite recurring doubts, was made.

Right now there are no huge decisions on my horizon, but doubt has been creeping back in. Am I up for this? I was so busy being social in October that I got almost no writing done.  Yes, I’m having a great time. Yes, my life is full of wonderful people. Yes, life has slowed down and stress has been reduced to almost nothing. However, this life is not sustainable. What happens in 3-4 years when my entire life’s savings is gone and I haven’t published anything? What if this leap really does leave me crumpled in a heap at the bottom of the chasm, and at an age that it will be hard to climb out? Aaaahhhh! As you can imagine, these thoughts are not conducive to creativity and writing, so I put my logical thought processes on hold, and consulted an astrologist.

Consulting these paranormal people is always a great confidence builder if nothing else. It doesn’t matter if I talk to a psychic, numerologist, or astrologist, they always say the same thing – I am destined to be a writer, teacher, and prophet, (ugh) whose work will have an affect on many people. (ugh ugh) I don’t feel qualified to teach anyone anything, let alone many people. I just want a life full of friends, cats, laughter, and lots of quiet hours in my office writing. As for the outcome… ppphhhhtttt. As long as I can sustain my life, who cares.

This reading was the same. Apparently come next August I need to have this book finished and submitted to a publisher because some moon, or planet, or something is moving into my publishing house. And this book is going to bring in money, launch my career, and potentially lead me back into the entertainment industry when the book is made into a movie. All that sounds great, though I have no idea if any of it is true. However, once again, what made this entire reading worth the cost was the deadline. People have asked, “When do you hope to finish it?” I would just shrug my shoudlers, “I dunno.” Now I have a goal… a deadline. August. This book will be done by August. I am once again confident, encouraged, and ready to make this dream a reality. Despite the silliness of it all, purpose accomplished.

Now, on a fun note, apparently those renewed interests in romance that I blogged about recently are not in vain. At some point early next year, I am supposed to end up in a relationship, and one that finally gives me the deep, spiritual connection I have longed for. Oh my! It will be fun to see if that turns out to be true. A man, a career, and security. It’s written in the stars, now let’s see if I can write it in my life.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedinmailby feather

Relax and Exhale

The grief of losing a coworker is still creating ripples across our lives. Grief comes in waves, leaving you feeling fine one moment, and devastated the next. It also comes in layers. Just when you think you’re moving forward, a new reality of the loss wraps itself around you and squeezes the breath out of you. We are all still adjusting to this new reality. It’s going to take a while.

Recently a friend posted this to Facebook.

11951260_1214869728539057_4727466982148372689_n

 

It summed up recent expereinces so perfectly. At first, life in L.A. was amazing. Then it was awful (for a loooong time). Then when I left  and came to Missouri, it was suddenly amazing. Then losing a coworker was awful. However, between each of those amazing and awful cycles, there was a lot of ordinary and mundane. I don’t do ordinary and mundane so well. I start to feel a little depressed. I begin to question, is this all there is? Week after week, getting up, brushing my teeth, going to work, coming home, watching TV, brushing my teeth again, and going to bed. Day, after day, after day with some occassional fun thrown it. Is this really life?

The answer to that – yes it is. That restlessness, that desire to create distance from the miracle of the ordinary, tells me I’m no longer in the moment. Rather than become restless for something else, I need to enjoy those moments as much needed breaks from the upcoming awful and amazing. Because, as amazing as the last few months have been, they cannot be sustained. Eventually the shiny dulls. Thankfully the periods of awful are also usually brief. If you’re lucky, you spend most of your life in the ordinary. Wouldn’t it be a shame to miss out on most of your life?

For me, meditation is the answer to this dilemma. Making a committment to be still, focusing on nothing but the ordinary act of breathing in and out, makes it completely clear how rarely we are present. The mind is full of thoughts it seems to generate itself… thoughts that, upon examination, can be tied to either running away from awful, or chasing amazing – two states that simply can’t be sustained. With practice, those thoughts can be stilled, and the heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life reveals its beauty – The quiet moment of trust when a kitten curls up on your chest and purrs. When crickets sing you to sleep. When a stranger holds your gaze on the street and breaks that barrier between souls. When a cooking casserole fills your home with a salivating aroma. When a coworker tells a story that makes you laugh so hard you can’t breathe.

What breathatking beauty ordinary life can hold. Relax and exhale, and try not to miss a moment of it.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedinmailby feather

Twinges

Here we are again. Another week has gone by. It’s been 3 1/2 months since I arrived here in Missouri. In some ways it feels like I’ve been here for years. In other ways I’m still settling in. There is still a hefty list of things that need to be done before I’m fully “settled.” As I type, my sunporch is finally being screened. I’m excited to get that off the list, and to be able to enjoy the outdoors without the mosquitos. They can go snack on someone else, thank you very much.

Heading towards my fourth month here, things are definitely starting to normalize. Every commute is not another opportunity to marvel at the lack of traffic and abundance of courteous drivers. Now it’s just a commute… a 10-minute, lovely commute, but still just a commute. I still obsessively check WeatherBug to see if there might be a thunderstorm that day, but thunder is no longer the novelty it was when I first arrived. Even my cats can now deal with all but the loudest cracks of thunder.

With this expected loss of novelty and excitement, I am starting to have twinges of… not sure if I would call it homesickness, but I am starting to miss people from California. It’s starting to sink in that despite Facebook, I’m really not around old friends anymore. Yes, I can see their lives play out, but we can’t get together for dinner, a hike, or a laugh. I don’t regret the move, it’s just a fact that old relationships are missed, despite having developed new ones here. When I first arrived, people would ask me if I wanted to go back to visit, and my answer was always a resounding ‘no!’ Now I’m starting to feel like it would be fun to visit. Time does make the unpleasant fade, and soon I will only remember the good aspects of life in California. Several clients at our fitness studio have taken trips to CA and their thoughts when they come back are that they can see LA would be a miserable place to live, but it’s a lovely place to visit. They may just be right.

Work has provided some wonderful access to some amazing physical treatment and care, so I’m no longer living in so much pain. This has given me twinges of restlessness for physical activity. Today I took my first cardio class and it was just as awful as I expected. Ha! I should have gotten up early to eat early, but instead ate just an hour before class. Combine that with my desire to push myself hard and see what I’m capable of, and about 2/3 of the way through class, I was losing my breakfast. Lesson learned. I was disappointed I couldn’t keep up with class, but on the other hand, it’s pretty much the first cardio I’ve done in a year. What did I expect from a 50-year-old, out-of-shape body? I’m tired, I know I’ll ache tomorrow, but it feels good.

And finally, there have been twinges of frustration as I have struggled with the prologue for my novel. I just couldn’t find the right voice. As soon as this post is finished, though, I will be writing, because I think I’ve finally found it. It’s going to be a very short prologue – no in depth information, which was making it feel like reading a history book. Just a quick, simple, and light couple of paragraphs to help people understand where they are. Then I will get back to writing the story. I’m truly beginning to believe that some day this book will be published, even if only friends and family read it. And as I’ve learned with weight loss, or finishing a novel that could take years, without faith you will not continue. You have to believe that your goal is possible.

I believe!

 

 

 

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedinmailby feather

Road Trip

One of the joys of living in the midwest is its central location. Just a few hours away are numerous large cities. Also, just a day’s drive away is my old college town and my best friend, as well as numerous other friends and relatives. Last weekend I decided I was finally settled in enough to take the new car on a roadtrip and visit some people from home.

The trip didn’t start out or end particularly well. Thanks to an iPhone update, my GPS was screwy and left me not knowing how to even start. It’s a little frightening how reliant we’ve all become on technology. Sitting in my car, wondering what to do, I had to ask myself, “What did I do before GPS?” Not sure I had any maps left, I remembered Google maps, went inside, fired up the computer, and printed out my route. That got me on the road, though I was thoroughly annoyed with having to check the map instead of listening to a pleasant voice tell me a turn was coming up. We’re reliant for a reason… because technology, when it’s working, is better than no technology.

The drive was beautiful and I enjoyed the rolling hills, limestone rocks, and tree covered landscape. It stayed this way pretty much until I hit South Dakota. Now, having grown up there, I do appreciate the unique beauty it offers, but after passing through the rolling hills of Missouri and Iowa, it suddenly seemed barren and bleak. Whatever trees I saw had been neatly planted in rows after the dust bowl to help preserve land.

It was so good to see friends and family. I visited with my newly engaged niece and another one heading off for a major backpacking trip. I saw an old friend from high school, and probably annoyed our waitress by monopolizing a booth during the breakfast rush hour as we happily chatted away. Of course, any time with my best friend is amazing and wonderful. As I’ve said, Missouri would be almost perfect, if only she were here.

Despite all that, my gut feeling that Missouri was where I should move was confirmed. The whole time I was in SD I could not picture myself living there. It just felt wrong. Missouri felt right. Much of my life has been run by listening to this intuition. I’ve lost it from time to time, and generally lose myself when that happens, but it’s nice to know it’s still there. I just have to be open and listen.

The trip home was a little traumatic. The night before I left, a huge storm came through the area. There I was with a brand new car that didn’t even have it’s permanent plates yet, and no garage. My best friend selflessly gave me her garage, which was humbling. She at least was willing to accept my help with the deductible if her car was damaged. Thankfully, it was not. However, the next day I had to drive home through parts of that same storm. I delayed leaving a little and thought the worst was safely past me. I was wrong. Suddenly I was in pouring rain that was so hard I could barely see the car that was 3-4 car-lengths in front of me. I told myself if I just kept driving, I’d be clear of it in a few miles. Instead it got worse. The only way I could see that car was when it put on its brake lights. I could also see a car 3-4 car lengths behind me. I wanted desperately to pull over, but know that is how pile-ups start. As I counted the passing miles I became more and more terrified. The clouds became heavier and darker until it was almost night out. I had to keep reminding myself it was the middle of the day. I finally saw an old road that had been fenced off, but allowed me to pull my car off the road. Unfortunately, once I looked at the radar, another one of those technoligies that is valuable and I have come to rely on, I could see that if I stayed there, it would only get worse. I was on the leading edge of it, which meant the entire cell would pass over me and then I’d have to drive through it again. My best bet was to get back on the road and drive out of it. Lightning was flashing everywhere. There was probably thunder as well, but the pounding rain was so loud on the car that I couldn’t tell. And I had to pee!

The radar didn’t lie. Within about 5 miles the rain returned to normal spattering. I pulled off to use the restroom, but by the time I got out of the gas station the storm had caught back up with me. Just a few more miles of low-visibility driving and once again I was free of it. It seemed to chase me the whole way home and finally caught up about midnight that night when I was safely in bed.

I missed weather in California, and I guess mother nature is having a good laugh at me now. I had forgotten that weather could also be frightening and deadly. Then again, that’s part of what makes life exciting. Adventures are adventures because there is danger, otherwise it’s just a walk in the park.

I’ve had enough adventure for the moment. This trip seemed to mark the end of “moving” in my head – like the last box I had to check before I could say I was here. For the next few weeks I hope to settle in, write, and find my groove here. Normal life sure feels good when you survive the adventures!

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedinmailby feather

Settling into Limbo

More business up front — The subscription plugin I was using stopped working. I have switched to another subscription service, however this means all previous subscriptions have been lost. Please re-subscribe if you so choose.

I have been in Missouri a little over a week now. I am settling in as best as I can when I am stuck in limbo. There have been further problems with the sale. It should have closed last Friday but instead, we are all scrambling madly to keep the deal in place. This means I am marooned without my “starting over cash.” I can’t rent a house. I can’t buy a car. I can just sit and watch as the money drains away into a hotel and rental car.

Despite not being able to touch, I can still look. This morning I paid the price of test drives — lengthy sales pitches. I made it clear that I had no money yet. One dealership respected that, and actually thanked me for being responsible. The other dealership pressed me to make a deal. The first dealership thoroughly explained my financing options and made me aware of better ones than I’d considered. The 2nd dealership glossed over the details and just tried to find a way to get me into a car. The unfortunate thing is that I liked the test drive at the 2nd dealership better than at the first dealership. However, there’s no doubt that I would adjust to either vehicle so the difference might not matter. As I was leaving dealership #1 I said that I would be test driving other cars to see which suited me best to make my decision. The finance guy replied, “And also judge who you want to buy a car from.” I had never considered that until today. It really is a factor to consider in the purchase. There is one more car that I’d like to test drive and then I will make my decision. Right now I’m leaning towards dealer #1. Let’s see if #3 can knock them off the pedestal.

My second week of work is also wrapping up. It was a bit overwhelming at first. I had not had a new job in 20 years. I had not been stretched in my work in 25 years. There was new computer software to learn. Lots of accounting methods to absorb. PR schemes to be created to bring in new clients. New faces and names to remember. Personalities to navigate. Regardless of that stress, the work environment is beautiful. When anyone comes to do the studio to do Pilates, yoga, tai chi, kettlebell, or massage, they are there because they chose to be there. It is a peaceful, happy, and relaxed place — a far, far cry from the frenetic, self-important atmosphere of the television industry. There are far fewer overblown egos to be soothed. The last 25 years are starting to feel a bit like a really warped dream spent in a sort of insane asylum. My Emmy is in a container somewhere traveling across the country, and hopefully not getting sucked into a tornado to be scattered across the prairie. It will be good to get it back in my hands so I have some physical proof that my time in LA was not a dream.

Speaking of tornados, we’ve had one tornado watch, which isn’t anything to get too worked up about. It’s the tornado warnings that cause concern. I easily fell asleep in the midst of the watch and we got little more than rain and some distant thunder. We had a better thunder and lightening show last night, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I’m still reveling in the lush greenness of the place. Last weekend I puttered over to my friends house to sit and talk while she planted her garden. It was just lovely to sit in her lush, green backyard and watch the bunnies, woodpeckers, and cardinals. It was also really lovely to be able to just drive a few minutes to casually see a friend instead of planning a week in advance then spending a 1/2 hour to an hour on the road to visit said friend. Life under the jet trails is lovely, but don’t tell the snobby fly-overs.

It feels like I’ve been saying this for a month now, but hopefully by the end of the week I will have some solid news about the house sale. Until then, I continue settling into limbo. Eventually I hope to be able to move forward and stop bleeding cash.

And oh yes, giving Whole30 another go. My body made it clear that’s what it wants.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedinmailby feather

My Life in Slow-MO

First, some maintenance. If you have subscribed to this blog and are not getting notifications, it will be a few weeks. For some reason I cannot access the “activate” area of the blog through my iPad. When my things arrive, and I unpack my desktop, it will all get sorted out.

I have started my life in Slow-MO, though I’m waiting for the slow part to kick in. So far, it’s all been pretty rushed. But let’s back up…

The Drive

With everything packed in containers, and the house still technically unsold, I loaded up my cats and headed East. Because I started a little late, I ended up in Friday rush hour traffic as I left town. It was a good reminder of just why I’m so anxious to leave L.A. behind. Too many people!

The trip had it’s ups and downs, as does everything. Unloading the car in the pouring rain, and not being able to leave the next morning because one of the cats had hidden herself away, were two of the low points. The cats were clearly stressed and I felt guilt for the trauma I was putting them through. Night two, in a hotel room, they showed just how resilient they are. They had adjusted to life on the road, and were content to be out of their cages and exploring the room. They’ve been fine ever since, perhaps even better friends.

There were many high points. The scenery was spectacular. I had claimed New Mexico was a state I had been to, because I once put my foot in the corner of the state (at 4 corners). Now I know how bogus that claim was. The state was spectacular in its beauty. Texas was flat, but as I reached the Eastern edge of the state, heading into Oklahoma it shifted from deserty plains to lush rolling hills. After the past few years of severe drought in L.A. the outrageous number of shades of green began to be overwhelming. It was stunningly beautiful!

I learned some things on the road, and also now have some unanswered questions. Such as: what exactly does “bridge ices before road” mean? I get that they’re probably warning you that there might be ice on the bridge, but that combination of words is nonsensical to me.

Apparently in Eastern Oklahoma, heavy smoke is an issue as there were lots of signs saying, “Do Not Drive into Smoke.” Got it. Won’t do that.

Hitting the Ground Running

I arrived Sunday night, started looking for a house rental on Monday, and started my job on Tuesday. So things have not exactly been slow and easy going. They will likely slow down now that there is another glitch with the house sale. I am hoping it is simply a delay and will not lead to the collapse of this deal. Until the sale is complete, I’m back in limbo, pretty much unable to rent a house or buy a car. Still, life is good here and so far the leap feels fine. It will just feel better when I have some cash.

There are little details of life here that surprise me. Motorcycles can’t lane split (yay) but its strange to see them without helmets. They just give bags away for free at the grocery store! There is water standing around out in the open… not evaporating or anything! People will go out of their way to be helpful and kind. I wrote down the wrong number on a house rental, and the guy who answered offered to drive by the address and text me the right number. And he did it, adding smiley faces to the text.

Even with my worries about the house, life is suddenly and delightfully stress free. It takes me 20 minutes to get to work, and absolutely none of the drive is stressful. I was warned about the drivers here, but compared to L.A. drivers, they are saintly. I love where I work – the atmosphere, the mission, and the people. Everything is easier to accomplish in a smaller town. People are kinder. Life is more gentle. This is the right place for me to be right now, and I trust that the house situation will resolve itself eventually. If it doesn’t, this will be the shortest leap in history followed by a great big giant splat.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedinmailby feather