Idle time

I finished filling up a gratitude journal before bed last night. When I penned the last page I flipped to the front again to look at the date. Writing out my gratitude list has been a decade + long process, I have several finished journals that store small snippets of most of my adult life, but this one in particular has the details of the last two years in which a lot of living has been done.

This journal started in March of 2020, a time when we were all forced into a global slowing down, isolating, an invitation to reset and restore in so many aspects of life. We took that invitation as a jumping off point for the next chapter of our lives. Much of it is documented here in the blog so I’ll save you the recap because you can go back and read for yourself if that is of interest.

Moving to Utah is the culmination of that whole journey, and I’m back to a reflective place that we all got to experience for a while there at least.

With the kids back in school all day, this has been the most quiet week I’ve had on my own in a very, very long time. (Just last week I wrote how eager I was for this!) I’m listening to a lot of podcasts, reading more, getting outside for a daily morning dog walk and weeding the backyard, getting some home and adulting admin things done, trying to spend less time on my phone or mindlessly scrolling Instagram (it’s hard!), dreaming, preparing. There is not anything of urgency that I HAVE to do right now, and that is an uncomfortable place for me to sit. The wheels in my mind keep spinning and I am recognizing that most days and weeks are busy and full to the brim with mine and everyone else’s needs that it keeps me distracted, in both good and maybe not so good ways.

So this post is an ode to idleness. I don’t always have to have a pressing thing going on, I don’t have to justify my day, I can sit, I can shower at noon, I can savor the quiet and not admonish myself for not doing more, I can fully rest before things pick up again – because they always do (and will in two days in fact, when we go to move my dad).

I’ve been particularly observant of our puppy Millie during this idle time too, I mean she’s my only companion during the quiet day. I’ve noticed her chewing on things that she didn’t when we first got her. My shoelaces being the newest victim. She is distracted enough when the kids are here, she follows us all around like, well, a puppy 🐶 But if she stops for too long and isn’t worn out enough from her walk or I’m doing something in another room that doesn’t interest her, she’ll sneak off and find something to chew. Is this how I am with my phone? Can I just BE without needing a distraction?

These thoughts invited me to ponder society as a whole, particularly the American “get ‘er done” mindset. When was the last time you just sat, trying not to think too much about your to do list, what was upcoming, etc.? I mean just truly sat in a very present moment with no agenda. It’s not a practice we are taught or that is modeled for us in very many realms. I read an email every morning from Richard Rhor that is all about contemplation. Have I ever really done it? Yes, but in very very small bites, and not with any regularity. Maybe this is my invitation (and maybe yours too), to a more contemplative place.

I’m very much a ready, fire, aim, (oops) type thinker and doer. Maybe it’s time to consider a different starting place. Beginning somewhere more mindful and centered. Maybe. Curiosity it’s is always a good learning tool for me, so I’m going to start there.

Lived-in

The summer has absolutely flown by, what even is time?

We’ve been making this old house our cozy home for the past 7ish weeks, and still have a ways to go. The projects, at times, feel endless, but we also save plenty of space for rest and recreation. Our favorite close place is Palisade State Park, a 20 minute drive to a small lake where we can paddle board and jump off rocks. There’s also close hiking and easy access to recreation all around us.

Day trip to Manti-La Sal National Forest

The kids are both registered for public school five miles down the road in Gunnison. (BTW there is a lot of overlap with names of places here that Colorado has, sorry for any confusion). The feelings about school are a mixed bag around here. One kid thrives on structure and is excited, the other is more reserved and pensive. Fortunately they both already knows at least a handful of kids, so perhaps some of the first day jitters don’t have to show up. They start this Thursday (!), I’m quite excited for a return to solitary days since it’s been more than two years. We’ve had A LOT of one another during this whole pandemic/tiny travel life/houseless/couch surfing situation. Don’t get me wrong, I love those two nuggets like nothing else, but mama needs some alone time to get her brain screwed back on straight.

We had a fantastic visit with our Denver friends to celebrate both Sara and Utah’s birthday. Who will be our next visitors?

Work work work… the travel fatigue has worn off for Zach who commutes 90 miles each way to work everyday. He got himself an electric car after doing the math of car payment vs. paying for rent on a place in Provo. I go up to Provo either solo or with kids about once every three weeks for the bigger supply runs and to attend an Alanon meeting in person. I can say with certainty that I much prefer this drive to anything in the metro Denver area. The miles are big but there is virtually zero traffic, and now with gas prices easing up a bit it’s not nearly as painful on the wallet. Needs continue to be a couch (want something very specific second hand) and a deep freeze as we hope to get a half a cow in this fall, to also go easier on the weekly grocery budget.

Projects we’ve already knocked out include fence mending, building some gates from repurposed screen doors that were left here, furniture sourcing and mending, general electrical tidying up, drywall mending and paint, bathtub sealing, nonstop cutting and trimming of the big elm trees that drop things nearly every day. Yes, this place came remodeled, no not everything is perfect or was done in the most sensical manner, so we’re making it make sense for us with what we have and whatever else can come later. There’s plenty more on the horizon including getting some chickens and gardens going, we just got here a little too late into the growing season to make much happen thus far. I did apply for a native pollinator grant that the state was offering and I’ll receive 150 native plants in about a month, very excited about that.

Update on dad: The biggest impending update to share is that we are moving my dad to Utah at the end of the month! It’s been extremely difficult making decisions for him these past two months. Getting a call from his assisted living home ties my stomach in knots because there’s not a lot I can do from this distance. We played with the idea of him living with us and me being his full time caregiver, but in the end have decided on another assisted living facility so he can get the hands on support he needs and I don’t have to be worried about him falling in this old house that has so many weird half steps and thresholds, not to mention the claw foot tub situation, (like how would he even get in there?). Huge kudos to anyone giving an aging or sick loved one full time care, it is so much work and there are not nearly enough supports, that is what ultimately made our decision here. Could I do it, yes, Does it mean I should? For the time being, it’s a no.

Writing, dreaming, business-ing: With this much needed shift in available time, I hope to get back into wring this long form more often. I shared a lot over these last two years, the heights of our adventures and the depths of my sorrows with dad’s quick diagnosis and decline. I want to continue documenting the journey, and the writing process is so much more meaningful to me as opposed to quick blurbs on Instagram. We also have this whole storefront that we get to dream into something meaningful for our community. The wheels have been turning on ideas since before we even got here, more is always being revealed. We’ve been collecting intel on other historic mercantile buildings in the surrounding small towns, time to get some ideas into action. These last few months have felt quite surreal, Camden often mutters “this place is too good for us”, but I have a different perspective. This place is what we dreamed of for a good long while and the willingness to go on the journey that got us here makes us that much more grateful and appreciative of all the things big and small that make it so good. The locals often ask us how we found ourselves here. We joke that it was the house that found us. I still can’t believe that it’s true, but we are rooting in here just fine and the doors are always open for a visit.

Happy Utahns (had to look up that spelling)

Grief and My (Longest) Season of Uncertainty

It’s been almost one year since my dad got sick with encephalitis and subsequently was diagnosed with dementia. One year since coming back to Denver for the first time and putting our lives, goals, and dreams on hold. One year of survival, mental breakdowns, experiencing some of the deepest levels of anxiety and depression, churning family dynamics, grief, housing insecurity, and complete uncertainty.

Yes, it’s been a destabilizing year for most of us, but when I put my losses into words I can see their magnitude and feel the full weight of it all. I put this post down and pick it up again weeks apart because it’s hard to look at. Maybe you’ve lost some things too, welcome. There is space for all of us to hold each other’s grief.

I didn’t want to quantify my grief this way, but it was a suggestion from my sponsor. See, grief and I have this tricky past, culminating with the loss of my mom over ten years ago. When I went into that depression I had very few tools or knowledge of how to get out. The trauma of that experience has made it hard for me to want to get reacquainted with grief this time around. Like I mentioned in my last post, I’ve been reading a lot of sad memoirs and I think it’s a way for me to get adjacent to grief without going to the deep end.

I think I’m done camping out adjacent to and am finally able to dive into my own grief experience. (Also, if you’re not into this sort of sad stuff or if it triggers you in any way, skip past this post – I promise I’ll eventually get back happier times in my writing, this too shall pass)

So in no particular order, here are my Covid losses:

Community, leaving Denver by choice but then getting stuck in this sort of nomad hell with no lifeline or way out. Loss of income about six months ago that complicated things immensely and made our lives get really small. It’s dehumanizing and demoralizing. It makes people uncomfortable so my community got smaller.

Loss of a dream, a life in Guatemala, other dreams on hold, loss of the capacity to dream because sometimes that is just too tiring to think of. Loss of creative energy or the ability to “figure it out” on the fly like I once did.

Loss of a business and a business partner, I did not get a say in this matter and that still stings a lot.

Loss of a parent. Yes my dad is still here and I am making the best of it, no I can’t call him up and say what I sometimes need to say to my father. I’ve gained a toddler in some respects with regard to his mental capacity. (Fun AND challenging)

Loss of autonomy. Choices got whittled down, decisions were made from a perspective of loss and lack. While I’m so grateful to have the closest circle to fall on and hold me back up, I also want to be able to make my own decisions again, have my own space again, sleep in my own bed again, do things my quirky way without needing an explanation.

Loss of sanity, security, health, stress weight and hair, I’m putting it all down so yeah, hair gets listed too.

This is another one of those posts that can’t get wrapped up with a bow. Grief is messy, unfolding, sometimes all encompassing. I will say that I’m getting a lot of support from the following; therapy, being outside and walking everyday (even when it’s dark and cold and I don’t want to), from daily CBD use, from moving my body with Pilates and with toddlers (real ones, not my dad), drinking water, making dinner, and asking for what I need from my people. I’m not done with my grief, but saying it out loud and sharing it like this helps me move through it, explore it in a less scary way. Thanks for coming along with me.

Some of my sad reads for the year so far. Maybe I’ll pick up some light fiction in the coming months…

The Unglamorous Trek from Survival to Sustainable

Less writing, more reading. Less outputs, more inputs. I go through seasons and years of these yin-yang opposites and for some reason am just putting it together that life generally has swings like that.

Right now I’m doing some very part time contract work that’s getting us out of survival mode. I work four days a week at two different places and that is good enough for now. I reserved Friday’s and weekends for appointments and family time and am grateful that I get the choice to do that. While I’m working one my jobs I get to listen to podcasts or audiobooks and am loving that auditory stimulation. While we were nomads I rarely was listening to anything besides our family conversations and nature. It was good for a long while, but eventually I found myself craving the alone time that listening to something on my own affords me. I didn’t have the bandwidth to be both fully engaged with nomad life and listen to other voices.

Zach got a new job! He starts working in Orem, Utah next week. And this job will ideally be shifting us from survival to sustainable. We haven’t made plans to move there yet and he’s going to rent a relatively affordable Airbnb for the first month, then we’ll assess from there. The kids and I will remain in Denver with our friend at least through February so I can keep working and as to not upset the stability we’ve built on since coming here in crisis mode in mid-November.

Since coming, we’ve all had Dr. visits, dental and orthodontist visits, mental health visits (and some still to come), and this taking care of myself first shift has been very healthy and, here’s that word again, sustainable. Thanks to Medicaid for making all this possible. I darkly joke that we were finally poor enough to afford these long put off visits. Yes, we had care in the past but since Zach worked for such a small company the out of pocket expenses were astronomical. The kids would get their yearly dr. visits for a copay but dental and braces was all out of pocket. Any emergencies required years of paying on hospital and medical bills since we’d never meet the very high deductible. Tell me why again we have insurance tied to employment? I have zero complaints about Medicaid and have been able to resume care with doctors who know us and have long established records of our past care.

Coming out of survival has made the mundane much more appealing to me. The yin-yang here is that yes, I like spontaneity, but I also crave structure (more than i realized). It’s a Both/and like so many things. I’ll take my free spirit flexibility in smaller doses if I can have a few more foundational needs met thank you very much. It’s less sexy but also far more stable for the long road ahead.

In the dry and dead there is also life teeming underneath the surface. I’m fallow for awhile so that whatever is lying deeper can patiently arise to the surface come spring.

Today is January 1, 2022

I cried when I heard Betty White died. It was the collective grief-filled end to a hard year for a lot of us. I’ve lamented here and in other places plenty, but also reflected on the good parts. And I think that’s what makes this week in the year such a unique one. The introspection and hope of looking forward coupled with the reminiscing of the past.

The trick for me is to not get too caught up in either the past or the future, so I’m also hyper focused on what am I doing in this day.

I’m usually much more eloquent in my writing about what I’ve been mulling over lately, but I’m still in a tired and depressed state that isn’t allowing for much creativity. I’m also working a little and looking for more long term jobs that align with the values and lifestyle we dream of creating, which is a huge time undertaking.

It’s definitely getting better little by little, so long as I keep putting my oxygen mask on first and prioritize my program and well being before trying to do anything else for anyone else. (Gosh that still sounds so selfish, chalk it partially up on being raised by a martyr.) I’m also trying hard not to project or plan too far into the future because addressing our current and immediate needs is enough for now. Is this how you do it? Live in the now? I’ve spent so little time here these past two years. But when I practice in the now, even when the now is not all that glamorous, I find my way back to the flow. And that is also what I call God.