Even though it is a sad day, I am happy, because I am not homeless. This whole year has been so enlightening about so many things, but especially regarding how hard it is to be homeless. I am someone who did this voluntarily. It was a lark, a way to get my shit together, and see the country. Gracious and supportive family and friends put me up in their homes.
What i found out is that, even in this positive frame, not having a home is extremely challenging on so many levels. Fairly quickly, I learned that I really missed the structure of having a home. But i did need to be shaken up. I was way too comfortable, sinking into the plush sofa or California king sized bed. I was slowly on my way out.
Driving through the Tetons was probably the moment when it all came undone. But I got through them, and I was different. I crossed the Continental Divide all by myself. I am a bad ass. And that is where I dropped the shit I no longer need. The shame, the guilt, the grief, the frustration at not being able to change the past. All of it, out of my car, out of my life.
And here I sit, cool breeze blowing, surrounded by abundance - fruit trees, flowers, family, friends.
Yesterday, I had a nice conversation with my brother, Pete, on the phone. He's been traveling and I have been tutoring, so it has been difficult to connect. But we finally did, and the normalcy of the conversation warmed my heart. We chatted about work, kids, his garden, my new apartment, and so many other things.
Today, I talked to my cousin, Bill, who is another chosen brother. He really does understand, like very few other people, what my life was like, growing up with a brother like the one i grew up with.
just read the above article. very inspiring on this sad day.
Took a ride to fairfield, so i could use the gift card from Macy's, a gift from my aunt jean. Got myself a new shiny tea pot for the stove. When that was taken care of, I went over to visit with Jean and Vince. It is so wonderful to have people I can visit. The whippets insisted on burrowing all around us on the couch, which i don't mind at all, but it annoys Jean to no end.
I underestimated many things when I was planning this trip. I had no idea how lonely I could get. Or how isolated I would feel. My stamina was not what it should have been to take on a journey like this. Neither were my finances. I was astonished at how huge this country is, and at the diversity. In Portland, Maine, I saw my first man bun, and i was stunned. Same with colored hair. Now I live in Vallejo, and those two things are as ubiquitous as Lilly Pulitzer in Vero Beach.