It's raining again here in SpringTowne.
July showers here are usually a product of the Monsoon, when low pressure and the jet stream combine to bring tropical moisture up from the Pacific west of Mexico up to our high desert plateaus and valleys.
We usually rejoice at this; the sheer change from blistering white heat and dry to the cool moisture and dusky illumination of cumulonimbus curtains.
But right now, things aren't so happy. We tried to purchase a house much more sufficient to our family's needs over the weekend in a deal that should have been fairly easy to figure out and close, but we weren't able to swing it this time. The situation turned emotional and, by the way were felt it, unreasonably one-sided. We probably could have snatched the deal from the flames, but the situation felt so sour to our sensibilities that, after close consideration to our feelings and spiritual moorings, we decided to let the thing go.
Presently, along with other setbacks and situations, we, and more particularly I, am depressed to the point of physical consequences. This is despite numerous mental and physical exercises with the purpose of redirection and reconciliation to the reality and benefits of our circumstance. It's a frustrating predicament, and rather irrational in its effects.
My reality overall is that of a somewhat overextended father of eight who teaches both in a difficult alternative setting with an emotionally abusive administrator and over the impersonal medium of the internet.
At this point, though, I'm just trying to figure out why this house thing has been so difficult in its execution and aftermath.
Oh yeah. Gas and the economy are making it increasingly improbable that I'm going to be able to spend much time (if any) this summer and fall in my spiritual sanctuary of Yellowstone. I don't fully know what that's such a big deal to me, but it seems that way.
Anyhoo, Things well get better, and this experience will fade to it's appropriate place in memory.
But meanwhile, it's raining outside, and I've got lots of work to do; I've got something bigger to build from all this dross and ephemera!
5 comments:
Kia ora Adam,
The indiginous people of New Zealand, the Maori, have a saying that I have taken to heart many times : Kia kaha, or translated meaning Remain Strong.
That is a disappointment about the house, but you have to pay attention to your instincts and values which you did. There will be another house. As you write things will get better, karma finds the good ones. Like you, I need the interaction with a spiritual place to help sustain me, which I get in the mountains. Most of the year those memories swirl in my soul, and you will never be far away from Yellowstone
my friend.
I am off to the mountains now, will send some of that energy your way. Kia kaha!
Rangimarie,
Robb
Namaste, Robb.
So sorry about the troubles and the house. I want to call and talk with you about it. I so agree that if it didn't feel right that whatever happened is meant to be. You will be given love and rest my brother and remember you are a lot closer to Yellowstone than some.
Welll,
I wondered, when I heard no more from you, but feared the worst. Or, as you imply, maybe far from it, under the circumstances.
One way or the other, it's an immediate bitter pill when it seemed so close, even so right.
The sun'll come up to-morrow... betchyour bottom dollar...
Talk to you soon,
Pop
Late, oh so late, is my response.
Your comments certainly struck a cord with me. I've been in a few rainy places myself, as have we all.
Forgive me for quoting Barry Manilow (I know some people find him offensive) but he sings a song whose refrain often empowers me.
"I've made it through the rain...and found myself respected....by others who.....got rained on too......and made it through...."
As you know, as you have experienced and as you mentioned in your insightful, thought-provoking passage, you have made it through the rain before, it seems that you made it through this rain, and, in all liklihood, you will make it through many more rainstorms......and you are respected by others who have been rained on too and made it through.
Thanks for sharing your stormy thoughts.
Teresa of EHS
P.S. Abusive adminsitrator? I am SO sorry!!! Yuk.
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