Monday, February 16, 2015
Six months ago I was a voice teacher, a professional singer, and a farmer going to farmers markets. That was until September.
Then my life flipped upside down when I tumbled down the stairs and broke (shattered, L says) my ankle. I don’t think the metaphor is too strong, and of course I wondered what it all meant, what the Universe was trying to tell me. Immediately my job became taking care of myself, healing my ankle, and I practiced this in Colorado for ten weeks, then came home to AZ to practice for another ten weeks.
Now I’m in a mobile home park in New Mexico, and my job is “moving”.
L and I are in full-on move mode. We are driving around, seeing the sights, getting to know the neighborhoods, and meeting new people on the rate of about 3 a day. Names, so many names, not the strong suit of either one of us. No TV (gasp)! Very sketchy internet (gasp gasp)!! We crashed over the weekend and holed up. The Airstream got very small.
Perhaps “occupation” is a better word. How do I occupy myself. Overall, my occupation for the past six months has been a lot of hurry-up-and-wait times. During the wait times, I continue down the path of learning (AFLE) how to be in the moment. I have periods when I’m fairly successful at this, and periods – like right now – when not so much. Did I mention how small the AS has gotten?
What does it all mean? I haven’t a frickin clue. But my mantra from the bone-healing phase – take time – seems to still fit. When I can remember to breathe.