Morning Bumblings

CRASH! SLAM! CRASH!

It was 3:37 am and apparently the rhinoceros had escaped from the zoo only to find himself trapped in the master suite on the other side of my wall. My eyes flew opened and I felt disoriented for a moment. Then (please note the time) I heard my father's wife yell at the top of her lungs, "Honey! Open your eyes!"

As much as I had forgotten that I was sleeping here, apparently they had as well.

Almost two hours later, I was still lying here in bed, eyes so wide open my eyeballs felt brittle. I thought I would make the most of my time and see if I could turn around my quickly-tanking attitude. It is now 5:24 am and she is talking loud enough that I can hear her voice bouncing around the room and rattling in my head. It's loud, really loud, but muffled so all I hear is a grating female voice wah-wah-wahing like Charlie Brown's teacher at a level that is much louder than should be used when there is another person still sleeping in your house for at least another hour. If they were able to sleep.

Ten days of relaxation have been zapped by an incoherent conversation with my mother last night wherein I ended up feeling manipulated and a woman yelling at a bull in a china closet this morning. Apparently, my calm state of mind is so fragile that it is sent tilting all askew too easily. I feel angry about this.

Yesterday I discovered that my former husband and his wife are buying a home. They close on it in approximately two weeks. They need a home given the fact that they have three children full time and my daughter part time. Six people in a one bedroom, one bath home! The children live, eat, sleep and play in the living room, dining room area. The adults live, eat, sleep and coexist in their bed. It's time they got a bigger place. I am excited for them. (oh my god! what in the hell is she doing out there????! A pots and pans drumline does not a soothing wake up call make!) So, they will be moving in a few weeks. I am thinking it will be a good thing. Literally living on top of one another has got to be difficult. (note to self... reread last line.)

As he was telling me about their upcoming adventure, he threw a proposal into my atmosphere. "I am thinking of buying the old house from Paul, redoing it, finishing the basement and turning it over to you. Would you be interested?" One thing I know to the bottom of who I am is that when it comes to construction, he is nothing short of perfection. The house will be amazing.

I heard an ancient sigh and wondered from whence it came. Oh. It was me, deep down inside. It was me. I have loved this little home since he first moved there. It's a bungalow cottage with hardwood floors. Were I to live there, it would have flowing white curtains. Instantly, I wanted to close my eyes and relish the thought of my own little house. I require nothing grandiose. I just need my own space. And I need it sooner rather than later.

The smile that started at my toes was unstoppable. I harnessed her, though, because there are a few squeaky hinges to be addressed before the deal with the cottage begins to roll forth. Guardedly excited is the stance I have chosen to take while I keep my smile strong inside and hold space for this to happen.

I lived in my parents' home for 23 years, with my husband for 6 years, in my father's home for 2 years, in appartments for 7 years and now, in limbo, for three months. It is as though I have spent my life up until 12/24/07 living under, over, and surrounded by noise and then, all of a sudden, I was cast into warm, silent, bouyant fluff. At my brother's, I found my authentic pace and I thrived in that environment. After spending those days of serene solitude at my brother's retreat home, this morning's rude awakening was even more starkly rude.

I understand that I make of my environment what it is and I realize that I am living where I am out of the goodness of my father's heart. I realize that this space is temporary and for my ultimate benefit. I understand that, as much as I feel my space is being invaded, they probably feel that to a greater degree.

Prior to Christmas, I had thought that a house was simply a want for me. I thought I was piping dreams of fanciful wishes that looked like a house. I thought I was being spoiled and dreaming of wine when all I could afford was... well... water and I kept thinking about the old adages of... home is where the heart is and a house does not make a home and a home is not a building. Then I would remind myself that there are others who live in cardboard shacks, if anything at all. I would look at my finances and keep pushing the "move out of dad's" date further and further into the future. I thought I was going to be able to stretch it out to the end of 2008 before I leapt again.

I could have never guessed what would be unleashed by going to my brother's place. Upon the very first moment I stepped in there, though, something started shifting in me. I realized how noisy and cluttered and peopled my entire life had been. I realized that there had never been a place for me. Granted, as a teen I had my own bedroom, isolated in the basement, away from everyone but, literally, underneath everyone's feet. I have also always had a place to live, but nothing has been mine.

This driving need to be home is fueling my body now. That which I thought was merely a want is most definitely a need. I got clear that I require my own house. I don't care if I rent it or if I own it, (although, Mr. Millionaire would remind me that it is always wiser to own than to rent) I just must have a house. It is a necessity.

I feel scared about that because I have a story it means that it will look like having no money. Which, is really silly because that will be nothing new. By my own doing, I already don't have any money (okay, that isn't exactly true right now because I have my Christmas bonus in savings (while I am in overdraft in my checking account, go figure!)) but, at least, if I had a house I would have no money AND my own place.

And now it is time to begin getting ready for the day. I can hear them putting on their coats and shuffling toward the door. (I have not holed up in my room to avoid them. Really, I haven't!) This ended up being a lot longer than I had originally planned. I had hoped to get some exercise time in, but wrote for too long and now there is not enough time to cram it in and still get to work on time. Hmmmmm... something else for me to ponder today!