29 February 2012

winds of change (and rage)

With all the uncertainty swirling around in my life, I started getting anxious about my mountain place. You see, the mountain house served as a dumping ground for my grandmother's house contents. My mother was unable to make decisions (remember my mother is the same woman who shopped for a couch for THREE years; clearly decision making is not her forte) and get rid of my grandmother's things so to save my poor father's sanity, my house became the mega storage unit. 

The storage unit conversion occurred about three years ago. Hence, my panic set in knowing my stuff will be returning and there is already too much of other people's stuff in my casa. I was a girl on a mission so I booked a ticket to officially commence Operation Get The House Sorted. 

I arrived home to hurricane force winds but my trusty little Nissan Versa rental somehow made it through. I surveyed the damage and hoped my mother would be able to part with these things now. As "acting" chief foreman, my mother has been hell bent on having a garage sale to unload the discards. I hail from a different mindset and firmly believe in donating the items to a women's charity, the local Lupus charity is my favorite. Why waste all the time haggling over a quarter, losing a whole day sitting in the driveway, and then listen to my mother complain incessantly that "people want chicken for 50 cents". I'd much rather give because I am lucky to have so much (and take the tax receipt). Clearly in the end, I am the one who comes out ahead on several levels (karma, baby!). 

Five days home and I finally broke my mother down. She saw the light and agreed to donate rather than go through the garage sale charade. While I was happy, I know my poor father was ecstatic because he doesn't have to suffer through another one of her pointless follies. 

I also went through almost every inch of my house to retire items that no longer turned me on. But during this whole-house sorting extravaganza, I found myself getting very agitated and angry. The cause? Seeing all the items my ex-husband, The Leech left behind. I was mortified by how much anger surfaced. After all, it is 7 years since he moved out and I moved on. But, I was livid as I went through his junk and deposited it in the garbage as most of it was literally junk. I was not expecting any anger after all this time but there I was at times shaking with rage as I dealt with his junk. I am hoping the Great Leech Clean-out of 2012 was just as good for removing my lurking anger as it was for clearing the house of the last vestiges. 

My panicked trip was good. The house is several steps closer to being ready for dwelling again and hopefully I am a few steps closer to wholeness too. 

19 February 2012

checking in

Lots has been going on here in my little world. 

I made a trek up north to see one of my very dear friends who moved from Texas a little more than six months ago. I have missed her dearly and really needed to see her. We laughed so very much, ate, drank, and laughed some more. It felt so good. I truly needed that, even though I was frozen and had to deal with snow. 

Work is up in the air. I have to plan my move. Find a new job. Do I stay with my current company? Take a leap of faith and try a different company? Stay in Austin? Go back to Colorado? So many choices, so many decisions and a very short time line for it all. March/April is when it all happens. As in 6 to 8 weeks. Yikes! 

I haven't heard from The Courier nor have I contacted him. I have come to realize that The Courier served a very specialized purpose in my life at that moment. I needed to leave the pseudo-relationship I had with Super Dad; hence, The Courier runs through and shakes things up so I could get back on the correct path. Understanding The Courier's purpose from a higher level has completely changed my perspective. One day, if the opportunity presents itself, I will talk to him about it, but at the end of the day, my part is done. 

In the meantime, I am running again and maintaining clarity to make good decisions.