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Posts Tagged ‘leaving’

Lately I feel I have been on a journey of sorts. A prodding to step out from the norm and known into something new and different. I am reminded of the quote, source unknown, that reads: Some lessons are best learned through trials and understood through perspective. It might have been my profound wisdom but honestly, I don’t recall.

journey

For a number of years I have been content, and perhaps have even grown complacent, in my dwelling. I had a plan, to remain and save funds and eventually leave when I had what I considered to be adequate funds to go on to the next step in my plan, or journey.

Well, the trouble with Plan A is it seldom works out like we thought it should have. So we move on to Plan B or Plan G or sometimes even Plan N. That is  the Journey. Up those steps to the unknown. With a healthy mix of curiousness and trepidation, we begin our ascent up, looking up, peeking behind us, wondering both what does lie ahead and what are we leaving behind.

So my Plan A has recently been crushed and my hand forced into the next step. Well before I was ready. But I know what I have to do and why I have to do it. So this week I placed an offer on a different house and wait anxiously on return word. Somehow, regardless what the answer is, I will have taken another step up those stairs on my journey. There is a certain sense of satisfaction that comes with that knowledge. Is that learning through trials? I’m not sure.

In just a few days, my next book goes live into the virtual world. Nervous? Sure I am. Having twins is hard. I barely have time and thought for one book, let alone two. But that is part of the journey too, is it not?  There is a sense of validation that comes with this though, and I suspect it has to do with perspective.

So as I wait for word on my offer on a house, and the final few days slide by before release date, I dream of paint schemes and think of impressed readers. Soon enough the holidays will enter my busy world too. This year will fall away and  a new one will open up, a new phase of this journey of life. And I will take a few more steps up to see what is really waiting at the top of our trek.

 

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Today I went house shopping. I have been doing a lot of the behind the scenes beginner things for a little while now, but today I actually began touring available houses. I feel it is about time to move from my present locale. And I usually follow my feelings. So while I am excited about the prospect and all it entails, I am also a little depressed by it. I had not thought myself ready to leave my cozy home, house hunting is work (as if I am not busy enough already) and moving can be hard on a lot of things. So I feel a real sense of yin and yang in that this is the thing to do, it’s what I had wanted to do but it seems to be happening quicker then I had imagined.

The whole thing sort of reminds me of one of my favorite movies: It’s a Wonderful Life. The one with Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed .

wondrrful life movie poster

I could watch this Frank Capra film production over and over at any time of year. To me it’s not just a Christmas story. It’s a story about love and living.

Why? Well because a major part of the show is now resonating within me lately. The Bailey family spends their time at the Savings and Loan Building, providing families with their own house–‘four walls and a roof” as a character phrased it once. The Savings and Loan Building and what it represents is a pivotal part of the movie, as is the developing romance between the main characters, Mary and George.

So now that I am searching for my own four walls and a roof and it’s scary and exciting all at once. Kind of like falling in love can be. In my case, there are all the stages and steps and searching and time. All the questions about things I’ve never considered before. So I am surrounding myself with people who are knowledgeable on the things I don’t know to join me on this journey to home ownership.

With the right mindset, I can find the fun and adventure in this. And I will take a lesson from the movie that no matter what happens, it’s a wonderful life. In this case, my reminder is in the form of a character called George Bailey.

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I had moved from the north to the south in 2004. For some reason, I was thinking of this move today.The van on loan from my home church resembled Noah’s Ark. Literally. Wally my plecto (big 16 inch ugly fish) and Bruce (14 inch shark) traveled in watery totes with battery-powered air supply. Their large aquarium  was nestled safely among my few belongings.

I had three cats–Sebastian, Kirbie Leigh and Pepper-who were all too advanced in age to be left behind. Sebastian and Kirbie had been with me long before my failed marriage had started. They were to be with me to the bitter end. I had a rescue rabbit–Jade–riding in his big bunny cage, munching hay. Taz, my blue and gold Macaw rode shotgun on the back of my passenger seat. Sharing hip space between the front seats were my last two remaining collies, Kip and Riley James. On the dashboard, looking like a stuffed bubble head toy was my Papillion, Scrapper. The only one missing was my horse. He was being cared for by someone and I would return for him in a few weeks.

I had managed to fit a few suitcases and boxes in for my stuff, but most the van space was indeed devoted to the pets and their stuff. It was much like traveling with a baby or toddler, nine times over. For about 850 miles. I am glad to say they all handled it very well. I do recall Taz got a little bored around southern Ohio so he and Pepper swapped places for a few a short while. And the last few miles to our new home the collies started growling and snapping at one another but they were tired and hungry and cramped so I understood.

So we all survived the journey, we settled in and blossomed where we were now planted in our new home, new region, new everything. And it occurred to me today that ten years have gone by since that time. Wally and Bruce– the fish I could not bear to part with–both died within a few years of fishy infections. I lost Sebastian and Kirbie Leigh within the first year, a scant thirteen days apart. Kip and Riley James were both passed on by 2010. Scrapper was let go just this year at the age of 17. Jade the bunny died within a couple years. Even my horse had to go on.

Of the original Noah’s Ark, only Taz and Pepper remain. Taz is 21 and Pepper is 18. The clock has started on Pepper’s countdown. Taz is expected to hopefully outlive me and everyone reading this post.  Maybe in 50 to 80 years, someone will read my journals and these blog entries and marvel at his travels.

So today I was taking a break, and I happened to realize who was chilling with me–Whymzie, Kryshnah and Muldoone. Just so happened it was these three. These are the three kitties I adopted shortly after moving to the south. Two were kittens and one was around a year old. And now all are ‘young’ seniors themselves. That was a scary revelation today. And finally there is the newest members of my group–Aspen who is about a year and her baby, Avery Faith, who is roughly 5 months old.

I see a cycle and I see time marching on. I do have new sharks, Zechariah and Malachi. They are still young, neither one not quite reaching a foot long yet. No dogs and no bunnies and no horses any more. The desire is certainly there, the time is not right. So I heed to the practicality of time over heart.

Time is such an odd and abstract creature. Unshakable, unchangeable, uncontrollable. It only marches onward, but our memories can take us backward. Today I think of my personal little Ark, full of pets who I wanted to have with me to begin a new life together. Isn’t it odd how choices and time often travel together?

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Lately I have been giving some thought to what we leave behind, especially in terms of our reputation. Whether we leave the neighborhood, the town, the state or this life, we all will leave important things behind us.

My thoughts are centered more on the memories of those we leave behind. Friends, family, co-workers, bosses, employees, you get the idea. All the people we come in contact with on a regular basis who have formed memories of us. Our character, our behavior, our words, our personality.

So it would be a logical thought we want to leave good, lasting memories, or impressions in our wake. We want people to say “Hey, he/she was always optimistic, great pal, looked out for others, compassionate, funny, talented, fair in his/her dealings, etc…”

But what if they don’t? What if we just think that is what they will say. And once we are gone, they can feel free to speak their mind. Good riddence. Bad trash. Trouble. Selfish. Conceited. Haughty. Evil. Heartless. Cocky. Brash. Just plain stupid.

I have to wonder, how would it feel to return one day and find out no one missed you and was glad you left, and worse, is anxious for your departure again? How sad. How possibly devastating. Perhaps even a wake up call. No, this is not a Charles Dickens Christmas story about to unfold. Just plain musings of late.

So the best I guess we can hope for is to leave a positive, good memory trail in our wake. That is my personal goal. I hope it is everyones. And some (like me) might have to stop and pause from time to time, considering what our words and actions are leaving in the minds of those around us.

I will close with this ditty I unearthed from somewhere a while ago. I keep it taped to my desk, along with my many mantras to remind me to keep my eyes on the goals.

Watch your thoughts, they become words.
Watch your words, they become actions.
Watch your actions, they become habits.
Watch your habits, they become character.
Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny.

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