Posts Tagged ‘rain storm’

It’s Been A Day

January 9, 2017

And I haven’t left the house.

Well.

I tried.

I thought about it.

I was going to.

Then.

I didn’t.

I took care of all things domestic and necessary–laundry, cooking, food prep, cleaning.

I took care of all things personal and grooming.

Even knowing that I might end up spending the entire day indoors I still got up, took a shower, did my hair, my it looks fine, and even put on make up and a cute outfit, because, well, I like to dress for myself.

And I was to have a visitor and I like to be nicely put together when I have people over.

I am so glad she and I met.

It’s been about a month since we sat down and did the deal, it was so good to get caught up and hear about her life and listen and be present.

Such a gift, that, being present for another, no expectations, just me here at the table reading a few words from a blue bound book and listening to fears and love and faith and joy and happiness and challenges.

Getting to share what I have gone through, knowing my experience can be of service, that nothing, and I do mean nothing, is wasted, that every moment, triumph or painful fall, has meaning and can be shared with another.

My life has meaning.

That is a great gift to know.

My greatest assets are my experiences and knowing that another can make use of them is incredible.

So there was that and it was good.

Then there was the overwhelming feeling of it wasn’t enough.

That I wasn’t enough, that I hadn’t gotten enough done, that I had left too much undone during my vacation time.

Meaning.

FUCK ME.

I am already behind on my school work.

Fuck me.

I mean.

Holy shit there is a lot more reading than I thought there was.

I really took a look at my syllabi today.

And get this.

I did read an entire book yesterday on the train.

Granted, it was a small book, only 87 pages, more a pamphlet than anything.

But.

Shit.

I did not see the rest of the syllabus readings until today.

Whoa.

There was a lot of reading there.

I also, before the discovery that I wasn’t nearly far enough along, done a bunch of reading for my Trauma class.

Maybe 90-100 pages.

I only have one of the books yet, so I read what was assigned from that book.

I need to read about another 150 pages between two other text books for that class and at this point I am just hoping I get them in the mail this week.

Just to have them.

I mean.

I have plenty of other reading to keep me going.

I had been warned by two of my friends in the cohort that the reading for the first weekend of Couples Counseling was beyond the pale.

I didn’t think much of it until I look up the work after kicking through what I could of the Trauma class.

Holy fucking shit.

Whoa.

I mean.

Does this teacher realize that we have other fucking classes this weekend?

Good gravy man.

Fuck you.

I texted a friend and just sort of lost it, what the hell is up with ___________ class?

We commiserated about the amount of reading and that the reader wasn’t available yet, so he’d sent a fuck ton of downloads to the class to read.

I am not great about reading on a computer screen, it’s super hard for me and I also knew that I wouldn’t get through all the reading unless I was able to take it with me and read a little here and there while waiting for the train, or on the train.

Fucking weather.

Fucking fuckedy fuck fuck fuck.

The storm is also why I didn’t really get out.

I didn’t need to, I had done all my shopping and errands previous to this weekend because of the impending doom of the storm.

And it was big and is still going on.

I was going to leave for a moment, I got on the coat, I got my umbrella, I grabbed my purse and I walked out the door, locked it, opened the gate, popped open my umbrella, took five steps and said, “nope.”

I turned right back around, shut the gate, unlocked the door, put my umbrella back and hung up my jacket.

Then I went back to the syllabi.

I messaged my friend a few more texts and then discovered that the grades were up from last semester.

Wait for it.

Straight A’s.

And Passes for the classes I had that were pass/fail.

Which I still think is hilarious that some of our courses in a graduate school program are pass/fail.

Then again, thank God that some are, I tend to get caught up in them and then realize, hey lady, focus on the ones that have a letter grade.

Which means.

Yes.

I have straight A’s through three semesters of classes.

I am half way through the program officially.

Officially I didn’t do dick today in regards to my practicum stuff.

But I did buckle down after a bit of freaking out and needing to get talked down off the ledge by my friend in school and a couple of phone check ins I did with my people.

“Your timing couldn’t be more perfect,” I said as I answered the phone.

“Lay it on me mama,” he said.

And I told him about it all and how I felt overwhelmed and I have had nightmares recently.

Ugh.

Recurring nightmares that haven’t had in years, but hey, here you go, have a nightmare, not stressed at all are you?

hahahahahahahaha.

Vomit.

“It has to be enough,” I said to him, “it has to be, I already did more today than most people do all weekend.”

I felt the tears well up and slide down my cheeks.

Sometimes it feels like there is just so much work to do and no one to rely on but myself and my God I better make this work or I’ll be homeless in the park.

Thanks brain, really needed that added incentive.

We talked it through and I felt the pressure valve open and the emotional steam hiss out.

Then.

I expressed some plans for the weekend.

Yeah.

It is a school weekend, but it’s also a big anniversary for me on Friday.

So.

I’ll be leaving school, I decided, a half hour early so I can go sit in a church basement and make a little announcement where I have made a few before, eleven other to be exact, but who’s counting?

I am.

That’s who.

I’m also going to go to a special church on Sunday and have dinner with some friends before hand and pick up a little something that evening.

A sort of talisman if you like.

A special token of time and effort and work.

If I only do that.

If I only did that work today, the sitting across from the lady bug, the listening, the sharing, than it was a good day.

Fuck.

It was a great day.

An amazing day.

To help another.

Spectacular.

With those thoughts and feelings I got off the phone, ate a home cooked, I told you I did food prep today I have meals for every day this week and all my meals at school all portioned out and ready for take off, made a cup of tea and got onto the reading.

I watched a two-hour movie required for one of the classes and then read two clinical papers.

I did over two hundred pages of reading today and watched that movie.

But most importantly I acknowledged to myself that I am enough.

I am doing enough.

I have enough.

There is no scarcity.

No.

I have all I need.

I am so grateful.

Because the one thing that I may have the most of is perspective.

It is astounding to realize how well I have taken care of myself and how far I have come.

I’ve come a long fucking way.

Just saying.

And though I have a long way to go.

Well, they say, “they” who the fuck are they, it’s the journey not the destination.

I’m on the path and though I don’t know where it leads exactly.

I’m happy to report that I made some nice strides along it today.

And at this juncture the most important thing is to acknowledge it and to take my rest.

There will be more work to do tomorrow.

But for tonight.

I am done.

Seriously.

l am pretty much toast.

Which means.

Time for tea.

And listening to the rain beat against the glass on the back door and the deep hallucinatory roar of the ocean as the waves smash upon the beach.

Warm.

Safe.

Cozy.

And loved.

That too.

I believe it.

I know I love me.

And that is enough.

It was even when I did not realize I was enough.

Perspective.

Seriously.

Where it’s at.

 

Window in the Heart

August 27, 2014

I’m going to Graceland.

Er.

I mean Burning Man.

Yeah, that thing.

I actually went to it yesterday.

After the epic down pour, shower of hail, lighting and thunder, lighting strikes (three people were hit that I am aware of, one of them I met today he was across the street from my camp–it exited through his foot and blew a toenail off!) and being trapped in the Commissary for five hours, it was a great day.

Sort of.

I mean, in my head it was a crazy day, a day of trepidation a day of serious consideration about my work, what I do, what my part in my community is, what I can do to be of service, how to act from a place of love and how to let the fuck go.

I got up in the morning and did what I do.

Except it was with a certain kind of foreboding of what the day would bring, confrontation was on my mind and I was unnerved by the previous day and I the gift of an unexpected day off.

Sometimes unexpected time can throw me the fuck off.

What the hell was I going to do?

Well, you know, there’s that Burning Man thing happening.

The rain had started in the morning around 6:30 a.m.

I woke up to the pounding on the roof of the trailer and I went back to sleep, thinking it would pass and it was far too early for me to be getting up on a day off.

Despite knowing that I was not going to be up late anyway–I had to be up to go to the Commissary which is closed by 8:30 a.m.–if I wanted to have breakfast. ¬†Especially since I would be riding cross town on my bicycle, not riding with the family since it was a day off.

I made my bed.

I said my things and read my stuff.

And I started to get dressed and that intuitive voice spoke up loud.

“GO!”

I was debating what to where, it was cool, should I layer, do I want this dress, those tights, “GO!” rang in my head again.

Ok.

Geeze.

Chill.

How about…

“Go!”

I looked at my watch, yeah, I guess I should go, I am going to be cutting it close with the hours and I don’t want to miss breakfast, so I slid into a black slip dress, threw on a sweatshirt and pulled on my boots, no makeup, no flowers in my hair, nothing glittery.

I mean, I figured I would just get all dressed up after breakfast.

I hopped on my chopper and hit to the Commissary.

I made it about half way from the 9 o’clock keyhole across the playa when it started to rain, not a down pour, but definitely a serious kind of rain, not a light mist, not a “I’ll just be passing through” sort of shower, but some serious water.

It was like taking a cold shower and I hustled up to the Esplanade and turned down 5:30 toward the spot and I got there, wet, but not soaked and happy to have made breakfast hours.

Little did I know how lucky I was to make it when I made it.

By the time my breakfast was done it was a downpour.

I had popped out to use the john and by the time I had gotten back it was falling hard.

There were about fifteen, twenty of us in the Commissary and we just sat it out, and the sky open and the deluge began.

It’s still wet playa around the tent today, despite having a full day of sun to dry it out, there are still spots of wet that are slick and slippery and stick like glue to anything with a tread.

I struck up a conversation with a ¬†woman and we spent the next two hours talking children, she’d left her 20 month home with hubby to come out to the event (or soon to be hubby, he sent her as a wedding gift, they’ll be married in October), that’s the kind of hubby I like, and we just had a rapport.

And of course, hours to talk.

There were plenty of worse places to be.

I was tremendously grateful to have gotten out of camp–nary a thing to eat in my trailer except apples, and I would have been pretty isolated and by myself.

Not that I am horrible company, but it was far preferable to be where there were people and hot coffee and music.

We all sang along to “Singing in the Rain,” and giggled at the silliness of it.

The city shut down and a snow day was declared.

All vehicles held at the Gate.

Traffic turned back and Wadsworth and Fernley back to Reno.

I heard of 22 hour waits to get in.

Thank God I was at the Commissary.

And eventually, the lighting passed, spectacular to see a bolt shimmer down in a gap between the white tarp and all the lights above me flicker out.

The storm knocked out the power grid in the center of the city, the internet, and communications were reduced down to the radios and word of mouth.

After lunch I walked over to my friends camp which was nearby, the sun had been drying things out, but not enough for me to use my bike, and I spent time with them.

I went walking with a good girlfriend and had lovely talks and we wandered the playa with others on foot.

It was sweet and spacious and open.

No art cars, no vehicles, a scattered few bicycles, and folks walking, converging, conversing, getting to know their neighbors.

It was an amazing experience.

I went back to her camp, met with some fellows for an hour, then back to the Commissary for dinner.

By that time I was ok riding my bicycle and the event had re-opened the gates.

And now it’s Burning Man out there.

I had a few other things happen.

I’ll tell you later about all the magic of last night.

Now it’s time to wrap up and sleep.

I only got three hours last night and I worked a full day and I have a full day tomorrow.

But.

I found out that despite having yesterday off, I am still going to be given Thursday off, an unexpected gift.

When more magic shall be had.


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