when there’s nothing else left to say

Winter in Switzerland – tomtown

My birthday was yesterday. It was uneventful–fortunately, and a little unfortunately. I did want to go to the beach, but there was fog and rain in the forecast. The beach is about an hour away, which is wonderful, but it’s still a little out of reach. If I’m going to drive out an hour, I’d better stay more than two hours.

So,  I stayed home, watched movies (Frozen and the music doc oasis: supersonic), drank sparkling rose, ate chocolate cake, and then learned George Michael died in his sleep. A double Cancer with a Leo moon. I’m still gutted about his death about how much I took his immaculate talent for granted, how he was so easily vulnerable in his music.

I have a job interview tomorrow at the old gig, but with different people. I feel alright about it, not too nervous, but not too confident. It’s going on 3 months of unemployment (and hey, if you want to donate to my fundraiser, click here). It’s hard to feel anything besides that I just need to do the best I can and leave it up to the Universe to say yay or nay. A sigh of a resignation is all I can give as I try to surrender a little more, resist a little less.

Having some freelance work on the side has brought a little sense of normalcy, but then I hear that godawful cough of my old ass roomie, and then I know there can be more. There must be more.

—

Right now, spiritually, I’m beyond tapped out. Maybe it’s more like low tide. Not much new is being brought it. There’s plenty of shit to send out, shit I don’t need anymore, mostly emotional shit.

This lack of activity and aliveness reminds me of when I left church years ago. I had heard all I needed to hear. If I was ever to return, I would need to find people who were more open to acting upon what they had heard vs. just consuming yet another meal.

This time, I’ve heard all I’ve needed to hear. The oracle cards keep repeating themselves.

One card that I have been repeatedly, and hilariously, pulling has been about music. Three times recently, I pull the card, I promptly forget about it, and then listen to music for hours. Besides the fact that noise-canceling headphones prevent me from hearing the death rattling cough of the somewhat middle-aged, somewhat senior roomie, it’s been healing to get lost in music again. I don’t know anything beyond that, whether I should find some band or be my own band. I don’t feel that compulsion. It seems more linear–music plugging into sooth my ragged emotional state. Today, I got lost in a Twitter thread about JoJo. I listened to her and got teary. That Sag lady is gifted.

I’ve heard all I’ve needed to hear, and, I’ve done all I can do. The only thing to do is patiently wait for the relief that I’ve worked hard to obtain.

This year, I’ve been lead to keep taking leaps of faith, where ultimately, I land on face–hard. And that’s life. Even for a very cautious double Capricorn that needs to calculate risk like the best actuary. This is life. The road burn on my face, on my heart, is my life, are signs of life. It doesn’t soothe me, hearing that just now, but it justifies the injuries. These are the occupational hazards of a human, living.

Even though my Cancer moon may work overtime to connect the dots of everything, this time, felt like the outcome I wanted would be immediate and apparent. It’s been neither of those things. It’s been exhausting and humiliating. Yet I got to a point yesterday that I didn’t care what happened anymore. Caring is heavy. Caring is tiring. Caring can be so Sisyphean. I was going to be fine. I’ve always been fine.

I just glossed over this feat, this accomplishment. It’s a big deal to say that I’ll be fine no matter what. It’s true. And that’s why apathy can creep in and protect me. Is this zen or a collapse? Or both? Or both.

All I know is that I did my part. That’s what comforts me, like a cozy blanket to fall asleep under.

I did my part. I did what I was told. I followed the guidance. I took the whistling kettle off the stove. I did my part. I heard you. Clearly.

Maybe I’ll be pleasantly surprised, but either way, I wish I were brave or wise enough to say that it was worth it. I can’t say that now–it’s too soon to tell. Even though that this is life, that this is my life, that the hurt is a vigorous shoot pushing through the soil  of life, I still feel like I’ve been reckless, with myself. But I haven’t had any choice in it.

Even still, I’m already putting on my warm coat of disinterest and heading out the door.

I’ve got to get out of here.

As a Capricorn, I crave material security. I seemed to have only experienced it in fleeting moments this year. I haven’t been able to pin it down and really own it. It’s been crazy making the past three months. The uncertainty and the vulnerability tag team me and try to choke me out. But as I am slowly provided for, I don’t want to get all crazy with things like hope and faith, but maybe things are turning around. I’ll break out a noisemaker of cautious optimism, and then I’ll put it back under lock and key.

I can maybe trust in the pattern of change. Maybe.

As 2016 is hobbling towards its final exit on Saturday night, I feel that I’m being shrouded in a resolute, defiant silence.

I know what I want. I know what I need. They are all one in the same this time. And I know I deserve all this and more.

What else is left to say?

—

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Mud walk

This was from October 19, 2016. I’m starting to feel like Wednesdays are energetically a no for me. 😆

Today has been unusually hard. Energetically, it feels like the Swamps of Sadness from The NeverEnding Story, which I was talking about in my last post. There’s some funny money business that has been a bear to handle, and I haven’t really been enjoying this funemployment lately. Even after meditating, I still feel like emotionally encased in crud.

When I was pulling cards today, I had what may be my first non-literal interpretation. Three times, kids and parenting came up. It was puzzling. Yes, I feel like I’m beginning anew, birthing something new in my life. Yes, I would like kids in the very near future. But no, neither of these are burning passions right now. The #1 thing I want right this very instant is steady income and benefits with a job that doesn’t suck. That seems to be a tall order here in Florida, but it is a rather poor state (it’s based on tourism, and those jobs, for the most part, suck and have the sucky pay along with it). I have Capricorn concerns, Venusian concerns,  but not like Empress or even Queen of Pentacles concerns.

I was going to meet up with a former colleague today for coffee. She bumped up the time an hour–no big deal, no real schedule these days. Then she calls, and I missed her call. She texted that her child threw up at school and that she’ll need to stay with them tomorrow, too. Can we reschedule? It’s a bummer, but sure, of course, hope the child feels better, enjoy the rest of your week, blah blah blah.

It’s not a coincidence. I’m pretty sure it’s not. If it is, it’s still eerie.

I do empathize but not fully understand sick child woes. I hope one day I do, but this has been the second time a sick child caused a meeting to be rescheduled.

I need more childless friends, for now.

So, that scuttling of plans didn’t help my trudging through my day. I did apply for one job today. My ancient (read almost 4 years old) laptop was running hot all day. I’m actually typing this on my ancient 4th gen. iPad. The one job that I’m excited for is one that requires a lot of thoughtful questions, like 20 of them. I’d finally be in management, as an editor, if I got it. The work culture seems to be a good match. They want caring people, seriously! I need the career stretch, so badly. I’m the only weirdo I know who is passionate about motivating and supporting people in employment, as a manager, because I know what not to do. So, tomorrow, Goddess willing, I will be focusing on that application all day. Send good vibes and prayers if you can!

Beyond that, beyond what may be the harsh conjunction of Mars and Pluto in Capricorn, or the moon in Gemini which, boy, scattered thoughts anyone?…applying for jobs doesn’t make me happy. OK, it doesn’t ANYONE happy, but I feel like I was driving in reverse all day. This is becoming tougher emotionally than I thought it would be. Yes, the looming pressure of paying bills is there–I know how to handle that a bit. But it’s more like the looming unknown of my life and my calling.

Here’ what I’d rather be doing:

• Blogging about my life
• Chatting about life with others, as a side by side support
• Traveling and taking killer photos

But I know I have to explore all options right now. Or do I know that? That’s what I feel lead to do.

The Swamps of Sadness are real, though. I felt like this yesterday, too. It feels uncomfortable to be waiting, although actively, for a lot of things in my life. I feel vulnerable and not safe–but I am safe. I got angels, ancestors, guides I’ve never met, friends rooting for me…

It’s not depression, but I do feel that I’m releasing old hurts. The funny money stuff reminded me of where I was two years ago at this time. I was probably at a friend’s house, for a book study, but also homeless, bouncing around the city via Airbnb. I did not feel safe and honestly, I hadn’t had time to process how horrible it was. My mind knows, but even with copious amounts of gratitude to my mother who helped me, I was literally so unmoored, and frankly, so hurt that I didn’t really have anyone except myself. It’s not the type of self-reliance that I wanted to hone more of. I’ve been in plenty of harrowing situations. This autumn of 2014 felt like the thick shit icing on the shit cake I had to eat because of grad school.

Two years later, I’m in a home, with coughing old white guys and a woman who cooking horribly smelling food, but I have an address. I have money. I have friends–maybe not locally, but definitely more quality friends globally. I’m grateful. I’m on the brink of something big, and it’s bigger than just a job, or even a calling, or finding a life partner and starting a family.

The shitty part of my life is over. Cue the hallelujah chorus!

I really hope I don’t regret those words, but that’s how I feel. Even if circumstances get hairy again, I feel spiritually stronger and wiser for having gone through the last few years down in these swamps of  Florida (which may be their own swamps of sadness, truly). What has been triggering today was feeling like I was going back to an old mindset.

Nothing ever goes my way. Everything is hard. No one cares about me. No one recognizes my hard work. Nothing is ever going to change for the better.

These constant companions in my mind have started to take their leave from my mind. They are being replaced with thoughts are a tad more positive.

You got this. You have the experience. You are sparkling right now. The right people are coming into your life. You needed this rest. Keep healing up. The angels have your back, so ask them for help! Even your grandmother is looking out for you. You are getting so close to what you truly desire. Don’t quit now.

That last one…that has always been there.  And that I was feeling near death less than two months ago, like my world was coming to an end, that I was getting sucked back into Fall 2014 and its despair.

So, even though I was making my way through this morass of sadness today, I knew that this wasn’t going to last forever–even if despair will lie and say it will.

—

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It’s all in the timing

 

Waiting to for the clouds to clear…

I started this blog with the purpose of keeping track of my spiritual happenings, but they came rather fast and furiously–hard to keep up! So, under this chill Taurus moon, I hope I can reflect on what I’ve seen in the past day.

A couple of synchronicities occurred with oracle cards with a couple of people I follow on Twitter. The cards dealt with forgiveness, desire, and timing.

The Mystery of Forgiveness

Forgiveness is a tough one because I don’t see it as an option at times. For example, I have some old white men as roomies and they sound like they are one step away from hospice with their coughing. It churns my stomach. I don’t feel respected or honored here–I never was, but it was better than the hell I was living in with a scaredy cat Capricorn lawyer. Oh, the housing stories I could tell!

Still, I enjoy being mad at them, at them being emblems of white patriarchy in my own fucking house (actually–it rarely gets that deep, because I really don’t think about them until they disrupt my peace). The benefit of anger is wearing off because my thoughts about this are on a catch-a-case level. And frankly, that is a waste of time.

Even as I write this, I don’t think for asking for divine help to forgive. As Alexander Pope said, “To err is human; to forgive, divine.” Every housing situation I’ve had in Florida requires some level of forgiveness, which I have yet to grant, and that forgiveness message has come up so often, but I think of my life before Florida, like the former “friends” back in Chicago that I don’t even think or care about anymore. I’ve (mostly) unloaded those resentments. Even my stay in a hotel during Hurricane Michael, where I was double-charged and treated horribly, forgiveness doesn’t seem available to me. Between justice and mercy, I always am on the side of justice. Make it right, and make it right, right now.

Forgiveness is a weird concept to me, and I believe it’s because it truly is divine. I don’t think I can wield it as well as justice or even mercy. It has to flow through me, from on high. Because my perspective is this: karma is a bitch you don’t want to deal with, and I hope she is very fair with you. And that’s a good perspective, which actually links to the freedom of forgiveness, but somehow I have a biter slant to it. “I hope she gets you and gets you good.”

I know forgiveness is not the same as letting justice not do her thing. It is exactly about justice and karma doing their things. And that’s it. I have been trying to embrace, too, to take nothing personally (from Don Miguel Ruiz’s The Four Agreements. That would be agreement #2). Even when people say it’s personal, call you out by your name–it’s not personal. I know it’s a projection of their own internal life. This has been freeing for me. My Mars in Leo plus my Cancer moon takes a lot of shit personally.

Somewhere, in between those truths lies forgiveness for me. I have to trust that things will be handled, divinely, for my greatest and highest good, and that beyond sticking up for myself within reason, leaving harmful situations, like this home, I can toss it up to the Universe who has it handled already.

Plus, it’s all baggage, baggage tripping me up on my way to better things.

I already spoke about desire in my last post, so no need to rehash that.

 

*Judge Judy Impatient GIF*

Timing, though, is connected to desire. The messages I’ve been receiving have been about perfect timing, waiting for the right timing, divine timing. Two posts ago, I discussed being impatient, and the Universe roared back, through oracle card readings and the tweets of people I follow, about being patient. That message has been orbiting around me for a while. I can apply that point of view to my career, but not love.

 

psst.

Sidenote: I just felt a little guilty for being so, um, me oriented. It was the Aries full moon, I swear. I did catch myself thinking today, “I’m just ready to share.“

 

Ahem. Back to it…

I’m not completely resolute on anything. I feel ready for anything, for answers, for clarity. But just in writing this, two folks I follow wrote about being patient.

I’m not getting it, am I?

Universe, help me quickly, and with grace and ease, to be patient!

Lucky for this Capricorn, this season of rest will be over starting tomorrow (wow, that’s such a messed up thing, but classic Capricorn, thing to say). I feel like I’m heading back to work. Job searching can be really draining and demoralizing., but I’ve been trying to flip my dread around into hope. Maybe this time in between jobs will be different. It already feels different.

My thoughts are drifting, but everything that I read and hear has similar messages for me. Stay positive. Transformation. Wheel of Fortune. Listen to your inner intuition. Repeating numbers: (it’s 10:10 right now) 11:11, 12:12, 1:11, 2:22, 3:33, 4:44, and of course, 5:55.

Deep down, I wish I was more confident about these unknown times. As I said in a previous post, signs are for those who do not believe. If the confluence of people, places, and things doesn’t give me any peace, even a skywriter at this point won’t help me to believe. Faith is not easy, and it’s only cultivated and nurtured in uncertain times.

I have to forgive myself for being so weak-hearted. Life hasn’t been easy. I don’t blame myself for feeling like I’m being set up for another big fall labeled as a “life lesson.” I don’t trust easily, or sometimes I trust too easily because I don’t trust easily and I’m tired of waiting for trustworthy folks to show up. Impatience! Again!

The Universe knows I’m exhausted. I’m tired of the terrain, the repeated, bland scenery, the same scenarios playing out their dismal demises.

The Universe also knows that I’m stubborn. If I made my  way through all this muck, I’m not going to give up now. I will be gotdamn cranky as I trudge through this morass–I think of the Swamps of Sadness in the movie, The Neverending Story–but I will not give up.

So maybe I can see all these signs (including someone talking about a topic I just blogged about earlier today) as good signs? I can accept that I am on the right path–which is another recurring message I’ve heard and seen. These are like the posters and banners that people hold at a race, shouting out encouragement in big block letters. They aren’t teases or lies or empty promises. It’s the Truth, with a capital T.

So, as I wait for and work towards the perfect timing for all those good things to coalesce, I can celebrate these Truths: I’m no longer oppressed. I’m no longer powerless. I don’t have to just take shit from people just to survive.

Halle-fucking-lujah.

—

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(self)-abandonment

Maybe it’s the power of suggestion, but today (Saturday), and yesterday (Friday), I was feeling so antsy-pants. So I walked it out, which I hadn’t done since I left my job that was within walking distance 3 months ago. I took the picture of these azalea blooms, which are located about halfway in my 50-something minute, 2.2 mile walk. Azaleas down here act like semi-annuals, not like the spring annuals I’m used to. It’s mid-October, and spring flowers ever bloom.

—

So. Anxiety. It’s not really related to the joblessness. I feel confident in that realm  of possibility in my life, as I am laboring to rest until Monday. It’s back to the last post: love.

I recognize the asynchronous development that I have with relationships. When it comes to this area of my life, I feel like a complete failure. I keep planting seeds here, for my own chosen family, my own community. Some seeds sprout. Joined groups, made acquaintances, but not any real friends. Everyone’s dance cards are full. I’m somehow at peace with that, because I know I’ve tried as hard as I could, but that there are other places to try. I look forward to trying things out when I’m more financial stable.

The anxiety I feel is rooted in knowing, somehow, that my singleton days are numbered. I’m happy about that. But I feel very vulnerable, like I’m out in open space, waiting for someone to just drop in on my head, or full-on tackle me and take me down.

Or not.

Either way, it’s been a struggle, to wrestle with my desires, try to pin them down, get the five count of victory, and then, integrate them into me. But it feels really awkward. I’m not really used to this. I skipped a lot of this in my adolescence (that’s a whole other essay). I don’t know how to be earnest about romantic relationships anymore without feeling foolish.

—

I think back to the first two people I fell in love with: my parents. I don’t feel bonded to either of them, really. Growing up as the firstborn, and with my brother who has developmental delays, my parents implicitly relied on me to not need them. And then I relied on that as my identity: not needed. I’m good by myself. I sublimated my desires, right into the air. I took one for the team, often. When I was 8, I gladly took one for the team when I was presented with the choice of a boy’s bike that I could pass down to my brother, or a girl’s bike. I took the boy’s bike. Thirty years later, I have no idea if I really wanted the girl’s bike, though.

When I was 17, I wanted to go on this cross-country missions trip with my youth pastor who was leaving that fall. My mom decided it was the time to go back home to West Africa and visit for a few weeks. Granted, she hadn’t been in almost 20 years at that point, since she immigrated to the States. It was assumed I’d be the woman of the house. I don’t know if I was really needed, but that summer stunk with my frustration and disappointment.

—

In friendships, I rarely ask for help, to the point that asking for help felt shameful for me, and when I’m forced to, the compassion I am hoping to receive…it seems to come drip by drip. It’s not that I’m not grateful, but I feel the undercurrent of the assumption, that I’m gonna be just fine, that I don’t need help. Mentally, it’s frustrating because I know that’s not true. Yet I’m the one who has been passing out those propaganda leaflets. “Be my friend! Low drama! No need to even water or feed!” #DoubleCapricornProblems

As you can imagine, this dynamic doesn’t really work well in the pink fluffy cloud land of romance. Ideally, it should–hey, I’m here because I don’t need you. I like you. Let’s do life together. But, somehow, I’m still stuck in the wallpaper of my youth. Sometimes, people see me and try to pull me out. But many times, I’m still undercover, still a charming chameleon.

—

My time in Florida, which has been a transformative, painful experience, has also been quite disarming. In the last three years, I’ve met four disarming men, one online. I realized that the first was even in this list this week. He was like the third–said the right things at the right time, but wasn’t at all interested in carrying those words through to the real world of actions and consequences. I didn’t really realize how much that hurt until I was looking at an old journal entry right after he shut me out (three years ago), and how careless I may have been with my own heart.

Second guy, I don’t think he will ever know what he was laying down and why I was picking it up. I’ll blame his millennialness, for now. What I learned from our energetic tango was that true caring is starting to be the thing that I value most in people. I don’t think this was cowardice, why he denied the mixed signals. It was a sleeping but powerful consciousness calling me forward into a new level of spirituality (funny, we’re both ex-evangelicals)…but not for anything that would deal with him.

Fourth guy…is a set of ellipsis?

I may have said this in my last post, how I was drawn to him before I even met him, by his name. Kismet calling.

I’m still trying to figure out how I can be that authentically empathetic with people, like he was with me. I’m inspired, I don’t know if I have it in me. He should teach a class. If I could do for others what he did for me…

What’s scary is that I found that I was standing off from my own self when we met. I’ve been on a journey of self-love, like many of you reading this. It’s a lovely buzzword, and if you had some decent parents, you already have a head start. My parents weren’t at all interested in my very vast, emotional landscape, where I lived and thrived. I also was “just fine” being off by myself.

In this journey of being pro-me, I’ve gotten better about not being negative about myself. But being positive and affirmative? Outside of academia and music, I don’t know how to do that very well. So it’s like I’ve been driving in neutral for most of my life, just coasting. I’m not horrible. I’m excellent in a couple of things, and the rest of me is OK. Ordinary. Nothing to scream about. This coasting then became about survival, which I am excellent at. But this summer I realized I was doing more than surviving. I was on my way to thriving, but still had (have?) the mindset of living in extremely hostile conditions.

The fourth guy…I’m not sure what driving metaphor would work. He waved me over? He lurched me into first gear? He stood in my way and I had to slam on my brakes? All of the above?

And in a minute, I’m already going into my feelings about stuff. I had gotten so great at dreaded small talk, and now, here I am pouring my anxious heart into some new acquaintance’s hands, and he didn’t even flinch.

And it keeps happening, and then I leave the conversations not knowing anything about him and I’m flustered. And it’s two weeks later, and I feel chagrined.

I’m past survival, hooray! BUT, internally, everything wasn’t “just fine,” and he knew that. I had said so. And I hadn’t had anyone in town to talk about this. It’s all been online–and I’m grateful for Twitter. All I thought I was doing was sharing this very common professional experience of living in the gig economy. But I was coming out of the wall, so easily.

—

There are a lot of thoughts about this 4th person, and about myself, and I don’t know how to thread them. There’s the thread of the anticipation/dread which is pretty basic: will we ever see each other again? And that’s not my call. Dude has the digits and the email.

There’s the thread that stands out in a full moon like this: what do I really want? This feeling of easily being seen or this person who chose to see me? Right now, it’s both/and, not either/or, and that’s going against what I’ve had readings on. But I can’t even be spiritually logical and commonsensical about this anymore. This may be a must-take, a mistake I need to make.. Also, the outcome doesn’t matter as much as I feel it does (easier said than felt and realized).

There’s the thread of self-disappointment and sadness: I’m still not where I want to be in my life, circumstantially especially. If anything started, with anyone, what am I bringing to the table? A lot of potential?

There’s the frayed thread of dealing with this idea of being separated from my emotions and my desires in order to pacify and please others. It’s frayed because I basically came into the world with it. I didn’t think this was me–seems very antithetical. That dude held up a mirror and showed me it was.

There’s the thread of fear. I don’t like being vulnerable and open, because people are assholes, lots of them. And, this has been an ongoing conversation with the Universe, of using my flatlining love life as a way to spiritually up-level me. I’d like to declare that season over because it’s exhausting, to gather up my energy and try again, scared to make the same mistakes over and over. Reading the old 2013 journal entry about the first guy made me scared that I was stuck. But no one who has read for me in tarot or otherwise thinks that. Even my own readings tell me I’m not stuck. Things are moving forward. I am ready. For something.

And I have to start thinking about what I deserve in a non-entitled, life has been hard way, but in a more receptive, the Universe has my back sort of way. To be proactive in creating wholeness in my life. To affirm myself when no one else does. Now that the storm is over, the fire is out, the war has ended–I can start to choose what I want to do, where I want to go, and who I want to be with. I’m not beholden to anyone.

Related (or, said in another way): there’s a thick thread of shame, about all of it, it being my realm of relationships. How many more wild goose chases in the name of spiritual growth can I take? This feels like the last one, for many  reasons–the main one being exhaustion. I’m glad I’m efficient in the recycling of my heartbreaks, but this is starting to look a little silly, like I have really poor judgment and poor boundaries (not like those couldn’t be corrected, of course).

Ultimately, it’s the shame of having feelings, of having desires, of not being on the same page with, honestly, most people. I don’t need most people, though. Still, when I get in sync with someone, it seems so rare, like it’s fate. But it could be another kind of fate. And that’s a growth point for me, beyond rescuing myself from self-abandonment. Sometimes a conversation is just a conversation, even if I want more. And wanting more is OK. Even as a double Capricorn, I can only calculate risk so far. The leap of faith beckons. You take your first step in the air. Gravity takes care of the rest.

Sometimes, you have to admit to yourself that you want to him to feel the same way as you do, and that he’ll do something about it. You want to bask in the sun again, the sunlight of recognition and acceptance. Your true stellar alignment comes when you are no longer a moon, gaining light from other stars, but when you are your own sun.

You were already, and always will be, the sun.

—

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Taunted, teased, and titillated.

It’s faint, but it’s there. The rainbow. The prismatic promise.

I took this while walking home from the job I had two jobs ago.

And now, I’m not working, listening to Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill Acoustic. And really, that’s all I know.

Oh. There’s laundry that is on the left corner of my bed that is ready to be hung and folded. It’s been ready for two days. I may be ready tomorrow.

I haven’t had any real downtime since I moved down here to the swamps in August 2012. I have a little bit of time, like the rest of the week, to rest before I got back into the onslaught of a true job search.

So. When I say, “that’s all I know,” it’s about the future. As a double Capricorn (sun and rising), I usually try to know, or make it known. So this not knowing, and mostly being OK with it, is new to me. I’m just feeling it all out–intuitively, emotionally, spiritually. My brain is on break.

After grad school ended in August 2014, I felt like I was done, with everything, like I could die now because I had done my life’s work. Maybe that’s what writing your memoir will do. It was a good but scary (and thankfully temporary) feeling. Maybe the last two years have felt like winging it compared to grad school, compared to my life in Chicago that was aimed towards med school, with the arrow landing miles and miles away from that.

Even now, the job I left was a perfect fit for me. But it’s over. I met a man there and I thought he was beyond perfect. And nothing’s begun there, and probably never will.

I’m halfway wrestling with all of that I left, to reaching a level of satisfaction that I’m satisfied with. The car maker Lexus used to have a tagline: “The relentless pursuit of perfection.” I really embraced that as my tagline, but as a recovering perfectionist, it’s rusted over with reality. Even still, my pursuit seemed to have ended in August. Or so I thought.

It’s a little unsettling to, almost effortlessly, get breathtakingly close to the bullseye of your desires, and then have the Universe take the arrows out and say, “Oh girl, you can get a lot closer than that.”

The problem, I don’t have any imagination about what “closer” is. Blogging here is maybe a part of what getting closer is. I’m a writer, and writers write, and my favorite thing is to write about myself. I say that with no ego. Because of my hero’s journey in life, I have learned so much in such a short amount of time, and I’m endlessly prattling about it. So I might as well do that here, for now.

Still, I’m not sure if my lack of imagination is solely about exhaustion or…really, I don’t know. It is scary for me to not have any solid career aspirations. Who am I outside of the office? And who do I want to be when I grow up?

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I have very Venusian concerns: love, money, and beauty. Beauty is never really any issue. Florida is a beautiful state and being in nature is easier to do as the temperatures start to drop into more humane ranges. Love and money, though? Those seem to be more elusive creatures.

In the land of divination,  it would seem my life is where I want it to be, or that I’m coming really close. But it’s gotten very uncomfortable for me, to keep seeing these messages about love.

New Love. Ace of Cups. Two of Cups. Three of Cups. Four of Wands. The Lovers. Honeymoon. New Partner. Soulmate. This Could Be The One. True Love.

I’m not out there in the world right now, so it makes me wonder about the things that the Universe has control over–aka things I shouldn’t be worrying about: so, Who? Have I met this person already? How? When? Really?

And it squicks me out to say, yes, that is what I want in my life, in the traditional trappings of marriage. And it’s time for that. It’s probably been time for that, screams my mouldering ovaries. And I guess it’s coming.

I’m not as concerned about the career stuff, because, again, it’s about those things that aren’t my concern–how? in what form? when? And, well, that realm is more under my control. And I’m not as broke as I used to be.

But love. It’s like that faint rainbow. I can see it’s there. I don’t have to even squint. It’s not as intense of rainbows as I’ve seen in Florida, in my life. But it’s there. And it’s real. And maybe who I met, maybe the Universe is saying–this rainbow can be more brilliant, more intense. Don’t settle for this. I don’t know. I do know what I felt, and that changed my life. And for now, in this breath, that’s enough.

An aside of sorts: Every time I see a rainbow, I’m in awe, like it’s the first time I’ve seen one. As someone who came to Earth as an old soul, it’s tough to get to a place of childlike wonder and delight. Rainbows have always transported me to that ageless space. And they always seem so rare. But during the rainy season in Florida, you can see them quite often. Maybe I wasn’t looking for them in years past, but they seem to be around a lot for me this year. They seem to be the sign from the Universe that the worries I have, especially about love, have been heard, understood, and transmuted.

But my impatience is pressing me, squishing me into the present, and into the unknown. It’s not polite anticipation. It’s foot-tapping, arm-crossed, watch-glaring impatience. It’s tres gauche, and I have to be OK with that, too.

The time I spend with Spirit, asking every day, across multiple decks, of what I should know–that’s how I feel I’ve been a bit teased, taunted, and yes, titillated, by my own desires. Sometimes I think that tarot and oracle card readings are just reflections of my subconscious self. And sometimes, it’s startling to see what is staring back in me in the cards.

After years of grinding and hustling, not only for a living, but for my own place, my own state of freedom and being, both internally and externally… it’s weird, and maybe a little wearying, for that activity to all come to a quiet halt. It’s eerie, to be alone, with those big, lifelong desires, the ones that are little higher up the hierarchy of needs pyramid. What are all the hustling for? It was to get up there. And I had forgotten.

And even still: when I’m used to hearing no over and over, what could be scarier than yes? Yes is unfathomable. It’s reaching the bottom of the ocean, a literal place that most of us have never even seen, with unknown creatures skittering about.

And what I mean is…hearing yes to things that your heart can’t even imagine happening.

What’s funny, and a bit sad, is what I want are things that a lot of people have, do, and will experience, and, frankly, take for granted. In the past four years, those two things would be any sense of stability and consistent human connection.

Maybe that’s why I feel like I have no dreams. Those don’t seem like conventional big dreams to me, or dreams at all. I dream of being normal, even though I know I’m never going to be truly normal. I dream of my normal. And, for this month, it’ll be to recognize and embrace my own desires, especially those of having my own family. And, you know, that’s it’s totally OK to want that.

Even though tarot and oracle card readings feel like big teases, they will probably stop talking about what concerns me when I really believe that it’s gonna happen. I think  it was Jesus who said that signs are for those who don’t believe. And I don’t yet fully believe. I still feel like it’s up to chance, that life is utterly, chaotically random, and I just got incredibly unlucky. But I don’t know that, either.

All I know is what I want right now, which seems infinitesimal and eensy-weensy to the things I’ve accomplished and endured. But that’s what it took to get here, to the really basic quotidian but beautiful shit of the human condition.

Just took the long way, the really long way.

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