Day 19: How the possibility of being homeless seems to rally The Creator (in me)
Updated: Feb 12
Nothing like almost being homeless to rally the creative gene. This really isn’t my idea of a good time but “trust the Universe” is often an action rather than a state-of-mind.
I have five more days in my current residence and the place I thought I was going to go, has more drama surrounding it being available than I expected. Or did I expect too much or was I just in a wishful thinking mode? All three. Possibly all three.
Anyway, my friend with the trailer, his back is out. Sounds serious. So, the day started off there. Now I need movers. Here I am Ms. Lone Wolf, I rarely hang out with people (I know hard to believe because I am “social” at parties but mostly that is in passing) and now I gotta find movers.
Just that alone brings on anxiety. Nevermind, the fact that I don’t exactly have the ideal circumstances under which to move – making the available options people who know and like me enough to take me on. You really have to either totally get me and know me, or be open to whatever is being asked of you. I think this separates the wheat from the chaff. Meanwhile you might see or hear me freaking out.
My family (of origin) is out of touch. We don’t see eye-to-eye about anything, let alone this. I reach out and confirm this. Or they confirm what I have been suspecting for months.
While simultaneously wracking my brains for who else is available (that probably I think won’t help at all). I realized that was my standard response to all human interaction – that they are unlikely to even give a f’k -- is why I ended up this Lone Wolf person. It was like the only person I know who I can rely on most of the time was me.
Except this approach does not work for this circumstance. It kinda is an interesting pattern. A response, perhaps to my family upbringing, a method that ensures a kind of stalwart protection against rejection. It is neither meaningful nor relevant in creating. Because we are all co-creators, we are all relying on each other.
I reach out via text to a few people. Take a walk. Listen to some Access clearing statements on loop. Reply to my father – for some reason. I don’t understand how I keep thinking there is something to say here when there is clearly nothing to say. I am not seen. It isn’t happening – ever. Not unless I look, walk and talk a certain way and that is not happening, right now. Actually, who am I kidding? Will it matter if I walked and talked differently? I should matter now.
Anyway, that is when my friend from Restaurant #1 gets a hold of me – she can put me up at her place – at least for a few months. I’d have to store my furniture elsewhere.
I had two more friends reach out via my Facebook post with different offers to help. Both possible leads.
My friend and colleague from my volunteer work texted with me both on finding me moving help for Friday AND a place to stay for the weekend – or beyond.
Now I am overwhelmed with choices in the space of a few hours where I originally had hardly any. Go me for demanding something change here! And not just change materially – I mean change within my own heart about what was possible.
THAT took all the tools. That made me see I couldn't go backwards, I was going forwards. And into the unknown for real.
Guess, I’ll keep moving, then…
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