Change is inevitable,
Deciding how to navigate the uncertainty of it all-
Is a choice.
June 4, 2018 my world was rocked.
It will never be the same.
Where do I go from here?
What do i do?
How do I remember?
Who do I want to become?
Why...
I was on a vacation recently when a little girl asked me what do I do...
For work specifically,
What is my job?
I had no answer for her.
I responded with something vague-like
My job is to find joy,
to live in Peace.
She looked at me perplexed, prompting for specifics...
"But what do you do? Like my mom is a nurse, my dad is a...
And what do you do...?"
My love aptly jumped in to assist...
"She digs in the dirt"
Which is true.
A great majority of my time is spent in my community garden,
Curring my soil.
Pruning my Sungold tomatoes,
Guiding growth thru the newly repurposed trellis.
I am tending my garden.
How do I explain that to the little girl,
whose world is comprised of a skewed vision,
learned attempt to compartmentalize-
...how I pay my bills.
My world has become so much bigger,
brighter,
than my current state of what I do for a living.
It is true.
Perhaps I was a little ashamed to share,
I am a down graded chauffeur...
with a college degree,
Driving for lyft.
To me this means
I can actually wear my pajamas to work,
if I want to.
I'm no longer in college anymore...
so I don't.
But I could-
If I so choose.
I pay my bills.
And yet my job does not define me.
In that...
I find myself in new territory.
Whose box do I fit in to?
I have changed,
released the ankle bracelet,
and I am now set free.
On vacation, my love asks me what I want.
He's a good gift giver.
Nothing I replied.
"I don't want more things."
To bring home,
to a place we have not yet cleared since we together moved in.
A T-shirt, that I will stain-
A trinket that collects dust,
A hat I only have one head for-
A cup, where my shelves are already full.
My piles have reached their tipping point.
I have more than enough
With no space for stuff-
It is time to clear that which holds me down.
My outside world is shifting.
It began on that day just over a year ago.
What do I want my landscape to look like?
Where do I choose to go?
What is the reflection of the inner seismic shift?
An earthquake.
The Big One.
Only I can plot the course.
In order for me to navigate my journey,
daily practices change.
The loop which I was caught in,
wobbles now anew.
I decide where I am going.
I decide my trajectory.
Facebook off.
Instagram silenced.
My time kills-
Released.
Where do I spend my moments?
Who do I surround myself with?
Even the slightest.
I begin to work out.
I track my consumption.
How do I feed my body?
My soul.
My world is getting small, smaller, smallest,
yet-
it is now so incredibly big.
Breaking free from the quantifiable consumption,
no longer a passenger
a little girl tucked into the maze.
I am a writer.
Coming out is hard.
Not only alternate lifestyle people
do it. To come round to your true
self each of us must do it.
I have been a closet writer for a
long time. It is the only "work"
I like to do. Because in doing so
I am directly myself no filters.
Just a being to expressing by
observing, sifting, noticing and
**The above was written on the first page of a found notebook of my Mothers.
After the third page this book remained empty, untouched.**
Do I get paid for this life I choose to live???
Absolutely.
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