Yuma

It’s only been days since Laura was here. There’s more room.  I noticed that.  I don’t t have to squeeze around her and she’s taking up a lot of the bed. But it’s a bit more slovenly. She made the bed each morning. A thing of hers. I’m not that way inclined so pile the sheets and blankets and am satisfied they’re layered.  Not at all crisp.  There’s none of the sweet flowery smells either.  Madigan was always so happy when she was here. Of course he wanted to hump her or lick her ears but he was spirited. Now he’s sort of morose.  Like me I guess.  I’m back at work and the sadness, fear and despair grind away like fingernails on a chalk board.  At the end of the day I’m exhausted.  Many against one trying to convince me the universe is unfair and the future is bleak.  When Laura’s here I feel less alone.  It’s comforting to be part of a park.  So many friends dying in the last few years. No time to grieve.  The chronic back pain and the encapsuled sadness.  I miss her.  I grieve for yesterday gearing up to today.  

Im praying.  I took Madigan outside and the fresh air, dawn, all were uplifting. I have to take action to feel fine. I have all these tools for happiness. Well used mind you but a whole set of tools.  Gratitude lists.  I had a muddled dream with a messy room of her and my clothings and a sense of secrecy  and shame.  I can devolve into chaos.  I like order.  I’m planning a motorcycle ride to a ghost town in the country.  It’s a bit of a daunting ride with the prospect of rattle snakes. I have to leave him behind for the few hours. Maybe Friday.  I fear death in a foreign country.  Can’t dwell on this or attract it. I’m finding the positivity of holidays and love are rapidly lost in the tales of despair.  I remember the term ‘soul sucker’ and remember how easy it was to be and find peace alone in the woods, at sea , in the mountains.  Yet the challenge is to know God in the multitude. 

My greatest enemy is myself.  Even now I could feel better washing my little floor or taking Madigan for an early desert walk.  I struggled up from the dream and came into this world.  I’m blessed to be in paradise.

Thank you for my purpose and faith. Thank you for my boots. Thank you for my motorcycle and leather coat. Thank you for the opportunity to serve.  Thank you for my education and teachers and all the learning. Thank you for the opportunity to share. Thank you for my apple office. Thank you for this table. Thank you for my fingers. Thank you for my eyes and the feelings and senses. Thank you for family and friends. Thank you for fresh dry air of the dessert . Thank you for this morning.  It brings back memories of Mexican mornings and mornings on the sailboat. 

Help me to do the errands and tasks and all the beuroccratic affairs I must face though I want to ignore.  Just as I returned to work and have begun the old well known routine I’m bombarded with all the government demands for money and the various organizations wanting their fees.  I believe I’m copacetic but the fear of not having enough to meet all these January demands is just old terror and trauma. There’s enough and in the past it’s always been found.  I’m saving and paying the rent and taxes and meeting my obligations . I just need to ‘write the cheques’ or take the time to fill out the forms to reduce the ‘threat’ that I feel with all these threats.  I will.  Today I will work. I will walk in the desert. I will make coffee. I will drink coffee. I will make the phone calls.  All shall be well.   

I have been stymied that I’m paying a few hundred dollars a month to businesses that required me to allow automatic withdrawal but now that their serviees are no longer needed they won’t stop withdrawing despite my long needing security cameras or insurance for the old place .So now I have to contact the bank and the wait for calls has been hours and the last time they told me they couldn’t cancel the withdrawal until I talked to them. I ‘ve talked to them and they’re asking me for numbers and forms and a myriad of paper work which I no longer have with me all the while they suck blood,. I don’t want to continue to pay such people and yet they were fine until I didn’t need their service and this is clearly an example of ‘clever’ business practice that gives business a bad name.  Aging I fear for my future when I could be more vulnerable.  But it’s like fighting the Borg.

The same with the days trying to get replacement hearing aids only to find out that some law says that apps for hearing aids can only be used on US registered phones.  My phone I bought here and am using a plan here however doesn’t count because it’s Apple and part of my apple care canada based coverage.  The audiologist was closed over the holidays and I think of going back and kick myself for not getting the hearing aids which were being sold in Mexico.  All because the girl in Vancouver phoned in sick the day of my apt for new hearing aids in the weeks before my departure.  A cascade of ‘bad luck’ or what is God trying to tell me.  Termites in the rafters.   I’ve remained calm if not serene.  But the death by a thousand bites becomes a fear as each day I muddle through the increasing Beurocratic demands and decreasing competency.

That said Best Buy was terrifie.  They immediately refunded the money and the external hard drive they sold me worked just fine for backing up my work computer.  I’m succeeding

I need to focus on the positives, The gratitude list are good for that. I’m so thankful for this paradise and my overall health.  I will get into a chiropracter soon too and go for massage. I have the exercises I am to do and will get to them. I have the shopping list for groceries I need . I will shower today. I will get all these things done and the others on the to do list will be face.  In the morning though I resist making contact. I’m safe in my isolation. I’m loath to encounter strangers and face confrontations and conflict since I want what I’m due but it seems to require a struggle like the voice I have to use to get my dog to come. He ignores the normal voice. All these beaurocrats are like that. They are overbearing until I push back .  In fact that’s not true. I have these terrific people always helping most of the time. It’s the irritating one that remains in my mind and I fear.

There was this overpowering administrator in the dream a left over from school , a bullying demanding sort encouraging the ordering of the room.  A drill sergeant sort.  I ‘m thankful for them today but their voice like my parents voices lingers in my mind no doubt as my voice lingers in my dogs mind. I call him and he doodles.

That raised the whole issue of ‘love ‘ and ‘fear’ .   The communists are feared . The CRA and FBI and all those alphabet folk are feared but the question is what they represent from one’s past. It’s always Jungian archetypes and God.  My interaction with the world is ultimately me and the other.  God and I .  There is no need for despair.  God loves me and this to will pass.

The tool box says ‘suit up and show up’,  ‘do the next right thing’.  I have a design for living. I don’t need to swim against the current.  I am in God’s hands. I’m a child of God. This is an adventure.  Thank you god for the adventure.  

Thank you for the love.