The Hermit’s Path—Limbo

waiting_to_travelTalk about feeling like our feet are stuck in sucking mud. Houston really wants to hold on to us for some reason, at least until after Christmas/Solstice.

Our house buyer seems to be having trouble getting their paperwork in for their loan on time, and we are working on the third extension to the closing date for this sale. Lesson learned: take the cash offer. It may not be for as much in terms of sale price, but the potential hassle cost is likely a lot less. :)

Meanwhile, we sit in the little hotel (Day’s Inn—basic, but nice) in a different part of town (closer to the city center) we booked long ago, and wait. And get to decide every few days if we really want this deal or are better off starting the selling process over (sigh!).

We are enjoying the different environment in the southwest part of the city. Being out of the suburbs is actually rather nice, with all sorts of entertainment and services in close proximity (even within walking distance—what a concept!). Although we are ultimately not city people, city life is still better than suburban life.12_hanged_man_uw

Feeling more like the Hanged Man than the Hermit in the Tarot deck at the moment. The Hanged Man usually means sacrificing something, particularly time, or, since he’s upside down, pausing to take a different perspective.

It is hard to relax and enjoy the maid service and other fun differences from home when our buyer keeps wanting to change the closing date, but I’m thinking that this is a strong lesson in taking one day at a time and staying in the present. :)

On the bright side, our house is now empty (with our RV-designated possessions in a lovely little storage place near the hotel), and we’ll be in Houston when our adult children are here for the holidays, so we will get to see them in person, which is becoming a rarer gift as time goes on. :)

And we continue to keep the vision of the Great West alive.

Palisades Reservoir, Idaho

Palisades Reservoir, Idaho

 

The Hermit’s Path—Part 1, Leaving

8362 Sorrel--Front Exterior 2014Herewith, I begin a journal of our path to otherwhere. Yeah, we’re moving.

Moving is hard. Especially when you are old, it is harder. Especially if you have stayed in one place (geographically or psychologically) for a long time; it is very hard. It feels like we are dragging our feet out of quicksand. We understand why people develop inertia and stay, even when they are miserable. There is a certain insane comfort in the familiar, even when it’s a dead place, soul-wise. Plus, of course, we had too much stuff (and according to hubby, still do). ;)

The irony is that I’ve moved at regular intervals all my life, until I came here, to Houston, Texas in 1990. I spent my childhood moving as a military brat; two years here, three years there, from the western U.S. to the eastern. Spending summers in refuge in New Hampshire (where parents are from and extended family is). As a young adult, I joyously traveled to live in Britain for three years, in Denver for three (courtesy the U.S. Air Force), in Rhode Island for four.

And then Houston. The first husband, after graduate school at Brown University, got a job here, and here I stayed, raised children, got divorced, got remarried, and stayed. Until the youngest one graduated high school, and then…the burdens of home ownership took hold, for the economy sank, and our prospects for escape evaporated. For awhile. Until now.

Hubby loves the countryside and hates the city, but was forced by his own circumstances to return to Houston in 2000, where we met in mid-life after twenty-year marriages to others and the making of wonderful children, to create a new life in this place. And yet, it never suited us. We accepted home ownership when we’d have been freer in some respects if we’d rented. Neither here nor there. We took good care of the last suburban space we will ever inhabit with the life we have left, and now we leave for…adventure. And remember, adventure in your fifties is not the same as adventure in your twenties. It’s scarier, but also more satisfying, I think. There’s a deepness in adventuring in your fifties.

So, this blog will be my diary of our change, from suburbia to rural life, from southeast to northwest,  from the known to the unknown (for we have no set destination, just a house that we are leaving).

You are welcome to join me in this exploration. As hubby often reminds me (some quote from a movie, he says), “We will know when we find out.”

Iron Creek, Idaho Courtesy Jacob Nordby

Iron Creek, Idaho
Courtesy Jacob Nordby

 

Recommendations for Your Own Journey

Hang out with Jacob Nordby. He’s a great writer and inspirationist who lives in Boise, Idaho, in our top five for places to end up after our wanderings. :)

If you live in Houston and are thinking about selling your house or buying a home there, call Olga Zeno at Keller-Williams. She will take good care of you.

The Spiral of Change

sig07-009-516-m81_multiwavelength_pinkEvery notice how a spiral shape tends to turn around on top of itself as it rises, looking as though it’s arrived at the same spot, but at a different level? I have become convinced over this life time that this shape perfectly illustrates our human progress through our own storms and smooth sailing in life’s journey across the sea of experience.

That déja vu feeling I’ve gotten over the past 57 years on this planet is not something I’m willing to dismiss. It’s like I’m hovering over the same ground again, but at a different level because I did learn something from the last place in the spiral when I was challenged in much the same fashion. Each time, I’ve handled the same life’s question just a little differently, with just a tad more wisdom (although still with a good quotient of foolishness!) than the last time.

How often have you found yourself experiencing  what seems the same thing, but with a slightly different flavor? Isn’t it as if the Universe were winking and nudging us to answer the same question again, to more to a “new level” with whatever we are trying to remember about how everything really works?

Let me know how you’ve worked that out to move yourself into a more peaceful place within as you find new ways to respond to the challenges of the spiral of life.

Inspirationist of the Week

I’ve been a fan of Jacob Nordby and his Blessed Are the Weird inspirations for several years now. A very fine storyteller and author of his own amazing transformation to being a spirit in human form, Jacobs down-to-earth approach to the life of spirit is very refreshing. You can check out his first book, The Divine Arsonist over at Amazon.com and follow him on Facebook as well, where he starts regular fascinating conversations.

On the Virtue of Making Smart

chinese_slip_barge_gray_water_stillnessJust reviewing some saved blog posts from, in online terms, long ago (oh, dear, a little over a year!) and re-found this gem from September of 2013.

Jon Morrow wrote a rather in-your-face and very direct analysis of How to Be Smart in a World of Dumb Bloggers. Smartness and dumb-ness are often in the eye of the beholder, and although Jon makes some summary judgments, he does not get closed-minded or condescending in inspiring us to “get smarter” and be better writers as a result.

Although the site puts a premium on ads for marketing one’s writing, Jon actually writes about the importance of being, well, you, and not necessarily being smart like other people, but in your own style.

I personally think that being an engaging writer means finding your own passionate interest to give voice to. Made all the difference in the world when I was taking a public speaking class many, many years ago. Topic I didn’t care much about = boring speech. Topic I loved = riveting speech. That simple, really.

As for Jon’s take, he has three cool points of advice (I’d take the first two with a grain of salt, but he has good points about them), but the last one is best. Don’t forget to pause to think, to be in reverie even. It’s just as important as the “doing” phase. Definitely. And that can mean stepping away from the screen to look out the window or even close those ever vigilant visual aids, the eyes, to give your mind a chance to breathe deeply (and come up with something amazing!)

Check out Jon’s article here, then, and go make yourself smart. :)

A Circle, and the Magic of Math

guy_with_lightbulb_geniusMy husband, Matt, he has this genius (similar to a genie), that he consults from time to time to perform his Magic Matt duties (from beautifully remodeled cabinet work to romantic piano improvisations and totally tasty vegetables from the garden).

The genius ranges far and wide in terms of subject matter, and this morning’s topic turned out to be the magic of math as the underlying structure of the universe, which led to a short expound-ment on the glories of pi (you know, the unending number that defines circles, at least as far as we can define that cosmic curve), the ubiquity of the curve in the structure of everything, and the infinitude of smallness in subatomic particles.12-subatomic-particles-abstract-mehau-kulyk

And of course, with my interest in astrophysics in general and cosmology (about the structure of the very large) in particular, a mirror appeared in my head, showing the parallel shapes (spheres! circles! ellipses! curves!) out among the stars.

Mini-galaxies (atomic structures) and maxi-galaxies (star groupings). Hmmm. We are not just star stuff, we are star structure, star curves, from our tiniest atoms and subatomic particles in our bodies.

Even matter’s counterpart, energy, moves in curves because space itself is curved. So-called “straight lines” are just really long curves that we can only see a segment of.

ringam2_hstThe universe is curves, circles, ellipses, and spheres. From the very small to the very large. And the math that measures these curves includes a number that can never be expressed exactly, pi, with its infinitely non-repeating post-decimal-point sequence. So, the universe is not something we can measure exactly.

Wonder what would happen if we did get to that level of accuracy in measuring the curves in the universe. I wonder if there’s something magical in the space that we haven’t measured yet, something amazing.

This universe: perfect, yet imperfect, just like us.

__________________________________________

For more on the “magic” of PI and speculations thereon in story form, try watching or reading Contact by Carl Sagan. I put a link in to the DVD at Amazon, but if you have a movie service that has Contact, you can watch it there, also (Netflix–not streaming, though, looks like; iTunes, etc.).