Everything Turned Upside Down
Up is down and down is up. I had read that some time ago on one of those Alternative websites. Only now as I look at what is going on in my life does it seem real. Usually I wait until I experience something then go looking. Sometimes I research, but not too far. Prescribing to the philosophy that it is wiser to have some experience with something before making up your mind. It's mostly why I prescribe now to a more Mystical Path.
I try not to write about what I haven't experienced in some way. There is no sense for me in seeking dark places just for curiosity or fun, but because I'm called to go there. It is far better for me to remain in the light rather than seek the darkness. Even though, I do often find myself being thrust into the shadow places. It usually happens that what I end up with has to be integrated with the light to form a wholeness. It all works out for the greater good. Where I am at that time on my path.
This time everyting has been torn apart completely. All things pushing, pulling being destroyed in oppostite directions—until no place to go. So much less "doing' now. Being—only in faith. Trusting in the path—the journey.
The death and destruction of who I was—so much that had to be cleared. It has been devastating. As I surrender to it, I know in my heart so much of my old life had to go. It was extremely frightening at first to see how much had to go. Some days it still is, but my strength is slowly coming back. My faith once again renewed—my hope restored. It takes time, especially because so much was destroyed this time. There has been so much loss.
Things have a way of seeming to be one way, but often turn into something else. Up is down and down is up. What can seem so horrible can be a blessing. When first in your life the tendency is to resist, to feel oppressed, rejected—alone without hope and faith. That is the awful, horrible place. It can be really, really bad. Each time I go through the process I think I'm done. I won't have to do more. I have had enough obstacles, setbacks, rotten things happen to me, but I have just about always looked back and been grateful. This time no different, but it had been really horrible this time.
"Go to a homeless shelter," she said. In shock I could not breath or speak. After working 20 years on my home and also a Summer place and other properties from having taken care of inlaws. I was told I would be homeless. This woman who was suppose to be my lawyer and defend me was telling me I had nothing. So frightened—I thought I would die.
"Why me," why now, why is this happening—I pleaded and prayed at night to God. "How is this possible?" To have no home after doing everything I could to have a home. It being one of the most important things in my life since I was a little girl. The first Judge I went before basically said nothing. "You married him," he said. He being my exhusband. My marriage ending and with it everyting I thought I had—my home one of them. Subsequent Judges were no more sympathetic.
"Go walk the streets," they said after taking my car. This is when things started to get surreal. Having had some experience with this sort of thing before. I knew something bigger was going on. I was not doing this—something or someone else was. Yes, I had some responsiblity—I did get married, but this just does not happen to someone. It was so over the top. Everyting in my life being violently ripped away. "Your a prostitute," they said. My god what was going on?
I remember that beautiful night, 6 years ago when I believed that everyting would finally be okay. It was the final get-together for the Summer. The "Ring of Fire" on the Lake. Mostly when the "Snowbirds" leave and us locals know things will get much quieter. The last party, holiday, summer fun, romance before the cold sets in. Many off to Florida, NY where it is warmer. I had no idea the nightmare that was to begin.
I had worked so hard. Finally being able to downshift to an easier schedule. Years of having tenants was now finally paying off and I could enjoy extra income from the rental business I started with my exhusband and promises from inlaws I took care of. Live in a single-family home and look forward to being semi-retired—finally having an actual "Studio." Something I had dreamed about since I was a little girl, when I learned I could no longer take ballet. My third grade teacher telling me I was good at Drawing and Art, to which I promptly started to channel my hurt and energies there. Holding full-time "day jobs" and working at night to make my dream come true of earning a living being a real "Artist." Building a successful career so I could finally have enough to do the work I really loved full-time on my own schedule.
So here I was being told "nothing was mine" and to go live in a homeless shelter. It was devastating to say the least, but that wasn't just any last night of Summer. I had been on the Sacandaga Lake, NY for over 20 years. Owning a place there shortly after getting married. As a little girl my Dad use to bring me to the camping grounds close by. There were officially 20 "Rings of Fire," but this one proved to shatter everyting in my life I thought I had. So much of who I thought I was. So much of what I loved. I was never to be the same again.
I'm still unraveling the Mystical experience of it all. I have been homeless a few times now. I have slept in my car. I have had to break into the Lakehouse I thought I would retire from just to have a place to stay—removed by the StatePolice and told it was no longer mine. I have been so frightened I thought I would die. My cherished beliefs about home completely turned upside down—way more "Down" than up.
The thing is here I am with you and I am writing about being homeless. I am sharing my experiences and making new friends—becoming stronger again! In touch with a self I use to know. I had left her when I married and here she was—pissed I left her. Well, more sad than angry, but she was somewhat wild and had to be dealt with because it had been so long since I had seen her or let her play—let her go anywhere. A part of myself denied, denigrated—no place for her in my life of being a "good wife." Accepted by me at first, but then forced into the role. At the end of my marriage—violently.
You ready to pack a suitcase and leave. I can remember a time when I was first married and had a panic attack about how much "stuff" I was accumulating. I had always loved being able to just go. I had already done some traveling and looked forward to more. When I married, having a "Summer place" became a place my exhusband said would replace "going places." It became my prison. The isolation almost killing me. The freedom now at first so overwhelming, so distant, I thought I would die. In many ways parts of myself have—the false ones. Needing to remember how to "Fly" again.
My wings beat and in places broken, but they are healing. The words spill across this page and I'm less afraid of not having a "home." Home once again being inside—I had forgotten. I'm remembering to dream again. It took everything to be turned upside down. I can tell you it's still not okay, but it's getting better. Coming home once again to the self I left behind. Knowing that last night on the lake before everyting fell apart was a place that in fact everyting is being put back together.
I still don't have a home. I'm not sure where I'm going. This blog is not one where I tell you how great things are and what a wonderful life I have. But, I'm writing and for that I'm grateful. It is not something I would have done before all this happened. Some things turn upside down, but actually they are right side up. It becomes one of perspective and attitude. You often have to wait and be patient before the magic happens. You stay the course and it does, but not without pain. The pain is still very real, very raw. Each day a little more gets done. The discipline of moving forward takes shape once again. The words spill across the page and one more day unfolds and I have a little more faith—a little more hope that things are getting better. Slowly, some days excruciatingly so, but simpler, gentler, moving to a better place even if that place does not have a physical space yet.
Up is down and down is up. I had read that some time ago on one of those Alternative websites. Only now as I look at what is going on in my life does it seem real. Usually I wait until I experience something then go looking. Sometimes I research, but not too far. Prescribing to the philosophy that it is wiser to have some experience with something before making up your mind. It's mostly why I prescribe now to a more Mystical Path.
I try not to write about what I haven't experienced in some way. There is no sense for me in seeking dark places just for curiosity or fun, but because I'm called to go there. It is far better for me to remain in the light rather than seek the darkness. Even though, I do often find myself being thrust into the shadow places. It usually happens that what I end up with has to be integrated with the light to form a wholeness. It all works out for the greater good. Where I am at that time on my path.
This time everyting has been torn apart completely. All things pushing, pulling being destroyed in oppostite directions—until no place to go. So much less "doing' now. Being—only in faith. Trusting in the path—the journey.
The death and destruction of who I was—so much that had to be cleared. It has been devastating. As I surrender to it, I know in my heart so much of my old life had to go. It was extremely frightening at first to see how much had to go. Some days it still is, but my strength is slowly coming back. My faith once again renewed—my hope restored. It takes time, especially because so much was destroyed this time. There has been so much loss.
Things have a way of seeming to be one way, but often turn into something else. Up is down and down is up. What can seem so horrible can be a blessing. When first in your life the tendency is to resist, to feel oppressed, rejected—alone without hope and faith. That is the awful, horrible place. It can be really, really bad. Each time I go through the process I think I'm done. I won't have to do more. I have had enough obstacles, setbacks, rotten things happen to me, but I have just about always looked back and been grateful. This time no different, but it had been really horrible this time.
"Go to a homeless shelter," she said. In shock I could not breath or speak. After working 20 years on my home and also a Summer place and other properties from having taken care of inlaws. I was told I would be homeless. This woman who was suppose to be my lawyer and defend me was telling me I had nothing. So frightened—I thought I would die.
"Why me," why now, why is this happening—I pleaded and prayed at night to God. "How is this possible?" To have no home after doing everything I could to have a home. It being one of the most important things in my life since I was a little girl. The first Judge I went before basically said nothing. "You married him," he said. He being my exhusband. My marriage ending and with it everyting I thought I had—my home one of them. Subsequent Judges were no more sympathetic.
"Go walk the streets," they said after taking my car. This is when things started to get surreal. Having had some experience with this sort of thing before. I knew something bigger was going on. I was not doing this—something or someone else was. Yes, I had some responsiblity—I did get married, but this just does not happen to someone. It was so over the top. Everyting in my life being violently ripped away. "Your a prostitute," they said. My god what was going on?
I remember that beautiful night, 6 years ago when I believed that everyting would finally be okay. It was the final get-together for the Summer. The "Ring of Fire" on the Lake. Mostly when the "Snowbirds" leave and us locals know things will get much quieter. The last party, holiday, summer fun, romance before the cold sets in. Many off to Florida, NY where it is warmer. I had no idea the nightmare that was to begin.
I had worked so hard. Finally being able to downshift to an easier schedule. Years of having tenants was now finally paying off and I could enjoy extra income from the rental business I started with my exhusband and promises from inlaws I took care of. Live in a single-family home and look forward to being semi-retired—finally having an actual "Studio." Something I had dreamed about since I was a little girl, when I learned I could no longer take ballet. My third grade teacher telling me I was good at Drawing and Art, to which I promptly started to channel my hurt and energies there. Holding full-time "day jobs" and working at night to make my dream come true of earning a living being a real "Artist." Building a successful career so I could finally have enough to do the work I really loved full-time on my own schedule.
So here I was being told "nothing was mine" and to go live in a homeless shelter. It was devastating to say the least, but that wasn't just any last night of Summer. I had been on the Sacandaga Lake, NY for over 20 years. Owning a place there shortly after getting married. As a little girl my Dad use to bring me to the camping grounds close by. There were officially 20 "Rings of Fire," but this one proved to shatter everyting in my life I thought I had. So much of who I thought I was. So much of what I loved. I was never to be the same again.
I'm still unraveling the Mystical experience of it all. I have been homeless a few times now. I have slept in my car. I have had to break into the Lakehouse I thought I would retire from just to have a place to stay—removed by the StatePolice and told it was no longer mine. I have been so frightened I thought I would die. My cherished beliefs about home completely turned upside down—way more "Down" than up.
The thing is here I am with you and I am writing about being homeless. I am sharing my experiences and making new friends—becoming stronger again! In touch with a self I use to know. I had left her when I married and here she was—pissed I left her. Well, more sad than angry, but she was somewhat wild and had to be dealt with because it had been so long since I had seen her or let her play—let her go anywhere. A part of myself denied, denigrated—no place for her in my life of being a "good wife." Accepted by me at first, but then forced into the role. At the end of my marriage—violently.
You ready to pack a suitcase and leave. I can remember a time when I was first married and had a panic attack about how much "stuff" I was accumulating. I had always loved being able to just go. I had already done some traveling and looked forward to more. When I married, having a "Summer place" became a place my exhusband said would replace "going places." It became my prison. The isolation almost killing me. The freedom now at first so overwhelming, so distant, I thought I would die. In many ways parts of myself have—the false ones. Needing to remember how to "Fly" again.
My wings beat and in places broken, but they are healing. The words spill across this page and I'm less afraid of not having a "home." Home once again being inside—I had forgotten. I'm remembering to dream again. It took everything to be turned upside down. I can tell you it's still not okay, but it's getting better. Coming home once again to the self I left behind. Knowing that last night on the lake before everyting fell apart was a place that in fact everyting is being put back together.
I still don't have a home. I'm not sure where I'm going. This blog is not one where I tell you how great things are and what a wonderful life I have. But, I'm writing and for that I'm grateful. It is not something I would have done before all this happened. Some things turn upside down, but actually they are right side up. It becomes one of perspective and attitude. You often have to wait and be patient before the magic happens. You stay the course and it does, but not without pain. The pain is still very real, very raw. Each day a little more gets done. The discipline of moving forward takes shape once again. The words spill across the page and one more day unfolds and I have a little more faith—a little more hope that things are getting better. Slowly, some days excruciatingly so, but simpler, gentler, moving to a better place even if that place does not have a physical space yet.
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