Recognition

Mary Mary, quite contrary, how DOES that garden grow?
Look, look and you will see
all the little posies, sitting in a row.
Sitting, sitting in a row. Little posies, sitting in a row.
Waiting.
Waiting while they sit. All the little posies, sitting in a row.
Quietly.
Not contrarily.

My world is set up and waiting.  Watching. I am what they call hyper-vigilant. I have to be. I live in the shadows of a chaotic world. Confusion, noise, clutter, activity. Random rants, random tirades. I never know when I'll be summoned to silence a noisy dog or find a missing something. Called to account for a misplaced piece of trash, a random leftover, a fork not properly washed. Blasted out of contemplation by a  clip from some movie or lecture. A blast of symphony or electric guitar, accompanied by a flame of well enunciated profanity.

I look around and always there is something waiting for me to get to it. A dream, a wish, but nothing going forward. My easel sits in the corner that is invitingly arranged, but never actually used. Begay's horses hang there in their frames, but are never actually viewed. The books line up but are seldom opened, the loom is dressed, but has no where to go. I am waiting to be noticed, appreciated, remarked upon, loved. Deep depression wraps her heavy shawl around my heart and moves me from one activity to another barely pausing long enough to regroup replan, refresh, restore.

Humans need it. I need it. I need to feel like I have a place where I can go and be alone. A place where I can rest deeply and restore my vision, my will, my self esteem, my connection with self, my connection with god.

Recently, I have noted that I am lost. Truly. I have been observing myself behaving in a confused manner. My thinking is not crisp, I do not have a vision or even the ability to imagine. I am tired. I want to hibernate. I feel as though the winter has slid right by me and I never got to take a nap.

And then I begin to imagine fleeing.  Fantasy's of flight take over and I can no longer see myself here. This past week I applied for a job in New Mexico. I dream of open skies, wide spaces and the sound of silence. Of peace. I have also been reading classifieds for rentals and basically looking for the out.

I find myself dreaming of an rv on a piece of land.
And then, as the universe will often do, a van, an old hippy van appears to me on a drive to Augusta recently. Its a fantastic funky old hippy van... a 1974 ford set up as an rv - a camper. Hello, Baby! Only she's missing her roof. Caved in during a big snowstorm. Ouch. The Van Man says he wants to get a grand. Not bad... really. Though I wonder how much the roof will cost to repair? I wonder who could pop a salvage on top? Maybe a fiberglass repair? I need more input, help with information in order to make a decision.

Ironically, after a long talk yesterday morning I feel that PT and I are in synch again. I've been here before. I have. It is always nice and gives me hope that we can find a joyful partnership in our union. But I'm hot on this van too. I want her. My gypsy spirit is screaming to me!!! YES! YES! YES! My heart beats more quickly, I feel less burdened, less trapped. Experiencing that sense of relief, sense of happiness, sense of excitement  -I am inclined to believe that I need to pay attention!

 So, my thinking right now is to just be with this decision. I can advocate for myself that I need to have my own room and also I need to feel like I'm not trapped. That I have somewhere to go and if I have to leave this home, that I have some security about being able to provide myself and my animals with shelter and mobility. So, I'm going to get this old hippy mobile.... Wheee!!