From my nature writing journal, Fall 2015…
I was sitting on the front porch reading and watching the half dozen crows that were making a raucous in the trees across the road. The crows cawed loudly. The squirrels scurried about. A blue jay screeched its name, “Jay, Jay,” in the distance. Fall was quietly descending a little every day. I could see a tinge of golden brown in the grasses on the other shore across the river. Gazing with a squint to better my focus my eyes, I realized there was a great blue heron slowly moving in the river grass along the shore, looking for its evening meal.
All of a sudden there was a riotous and rowdy clambering in the trees coming from the crows and then a crash followed by a great fluttering of black wings. It was late afternoon. “Surely, those crows were up to no good,” I thought to myself. Continue reading
There are days when we struggle to see the light for the weight of the troubles in our lives feels as though it draws a curtain down before our eyes, shielding us from the light that surely would lift our spirits. Today, I re-mind myself that the light is all around me. Sometimes I simply need to look a little harder to find it. And so it is… I look for the light in even the darkest places, despite the heaviness in my heart, for I know that the light will fill my soul with joy.
A few weeks ago, I posted a short essay on My Grand Mid-life Crisis Adventure, which ultimately brought me and my daughter, home to live in Massachusetts, although the destination at the time, seven years ago, had been Eastport, Maine. It was the fall of 2008, the economy had tanked and I had been planning our move to Maine weeks before Wall Street had collapsed.
It felt as though there was no choice but to follow through with our move, as my personal economic situation had worsened as did the situation of so many other families living on the edge of poverty. We took to the road with a sense of humor and deep-down inside a sense of great trepidation. This was our bailout plan, to embark on a cross-country journey and move, that would forever be affectionately known as My Grand Mid-life Crisis Adventure.
The story continues…
The Bailout Plan
There were stacks of packing boxes lined up in a 6’ x 12’ space marked off with red tape in the center of the living floor. I put another heavy 12” cubed box of books on one of the stacks and wondered if I should not try to get rid of more of my books. I swiftly tossed that thought out of the open window of my second floor apartment into the 90-degree heat and mused I would not miss that heat. It was the fall of 2008 and we were preparing for our move from Los Angeles to the Down east area of the northern coast of Maine.
The economy had been slowly sinking for the past few years, and as predicted by many who had seen the economic disaster coming, including myself, the bottom was now falling out. The timing was perfect to move from Los Angeles, where the cost of living was quite high, to coastal Maine where the cost of living was considerably lower. At least that was my frame of thought as I prepared for the 3500-mile trek across country with my 19-year-old daughter, Juliet. Continue reading
How to adapt to change in 4 simple steps:
Seven years ago October 19, I embarked on a cross-country, life changing move from Los Angeles to Eastport, Maine with my daughter, her cat, and all our belongings jam-packed into a 6′ x 12′ U-Haul Trailer. The journey cross-country was as jam-packed as the trailer, with my friend Mario behind the wheel, we set out to make it cross-country in breakneck speed, traveling from Los Angeles to Rock’s Village, Massachusetts in 4 1/2 days. Mario had volunteered to get us safely from point A to just north of Boston, from there I would be on my own driving to Maine. As luck would have it, once arrived in Massachusetts, another dear friend, who recently passed away, stepped up and attached my U-Haul trailer to his 8-cylinder SUV to haul it up to Eastport for me. A bit of what prompted me to make the move and what happened once we located follows…
In the summer of 2008, I realized that it was time to leave Los Angeles. Continue reading
The wonderful thing about being human is that we possess an inherent ability to change if we so desire. I am always open to change and a redefinition of who I am. I am fluid, like the water that flows on the river. I am capable of changing like the weather. I might have a day when my thoughts are cloudy and gray but I am always capable of pulling through the mists and shining like the sun at the golden hour, reflecting my power for change upon the world around me. Today, I remind myself that I can always change and redefine who I am. And so it is…