Transient – Like it’s a dirty word

bohemian caravan

I was once accused of being transient.  Transient – like it was a dirty word.

I looked around at what I had back then.  A second floor apartment in a white stucco building downtown.  A TV, a lawn chair for a chair, a lamp and an end table or two, a bed, a keyboard with bench and stand, and a couple kitchen items.  The apartment was was simple and clean; newly remodeled.  The kitchen appliances were brand new and rarely, if ever, used.  In the evenings, palm fronds brushed against my windows, creating pretty silhouettes in the shadows.  There was a coffee shop right across the street (Mother’s Milk I think it was called) where they had live entertainment in the evenings sometimes, and I could hear it from my windows.  It made me feel like I was part of something, whether I went there or not. I made friends with a mechanic in the shop across the street, who invited me to his more inland house when there was a hurricane threat.  A Turkish man owned the gas station next door and had great prices on wine.  I could walk, rollerblade, or ride my bike most places.  

When I moved there, everything I owned fit in my car.  The car was a Grand Marquis (I forget the year), so it was pretty roomy.  But I still had one of those cartop carrier thingies on top that I think I put clothes in.  In my travels, one of the straps had broken and I literally drove with my driver window open, holding that strap, across several states because I couldn’t figure out a way to fix it.  

Joe was this guy I met back then.  He was a furniture builder and also a doorman/bouncer who worked the door at a nearby club.  He was okay.  I think he liked me more than I liked him.  One afternoon not long after I met him, he told me that he had just recently gotten out of jail in Texas.  I can’t remember for what.  Anyway, he had this thing for dressing nice and being “classy” and having nice and classy things.  One day, he looked around my apartment and made a comment along the lines of, “it looks like a transient lives here.”  It wasn’t so much what he said; it was more how he said it that made me feel weird.  

Why do some people feel the need to judge others so harshly?  Especially based on what they have or how they live?  Did it ever occur to this guy that I had just moved cross country, by myself, and started all over again with no place to live and no job?  I packed what I could carry and brought it, but that was it.  Within days I had a job and it wasn’t much longer till I found my apartment.  No, I did not immediately wrack up a credit card just so I could get a bunch of impressive furniture.  I’ve never liked to spend beyond my means, and I usually stick with just what I need.  I’d say that’s smart and not something to be ashamed of.  

As far as transient goes?  Hey, I never promised to be permanent.

 

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Clinging Sunsets

Words cannot convey

exactly what I’m trying to say…

when in my mind, I see your face

you have something I can never replace

knowing the world’s a better place with you in it

feeling you near even though you’re distant

imagining you so hard you must feel it!

 

Close my eyes

hypnotized

and you’re there in the air

Nodding your head, you deliver

the music that makes me shiver

with your smoky, hooded stare

you’re in my mind; you’re everywhere

 

Patience is a trait I’ve learned

though many times been burned

nothing stops the desire

like sizzling sparks of fire

when I do get the essence returned

 

I see clinging sunsets with whispers of blue

you should feel traces of me calling out to you

the charm has worked before; can you feel it now?

To make sure you know somehow

and to prove my desire is true

 

I know that soon you’ll be coming my way

a little game I like to play:

give a little, take a little; a push and a pull over time

until the day everything will align

It has happened before at least twice

more than a per chance roll of the dice

revelation, obsession, aspiration

feeding the fire of infatuation

 

Suddenly you’re right in front of me!

In the flesh; your indifference, your sooty, sexy glam

can be replaced by someone who understands

how open arms can make everything okay

Everything hooking up and synching the right way

 

Can I do this one more time?

Clicking off my list of the sublime

You are the ultimate to me

don’t know why I didn’t see

what we have in common; our faith is ingrained

we’re both just a little insane

And I’m loving every inch I see

of our rapid-fire sweet destiny

 

 

 

 

My Metal Heart

My heart aches for what once was

though I wouldn’t change a thing about today

the longing is still there, a remnant of days gone by

and I can’t help but wonder…

There was a time of freedom and not much responsibility

when all that mattered was the music

we lived and breathed the music ~ it was a lifestyle

There was the excitement of youth

when each day was brand new and anything could happen

The spontaneity and hope; starry eyes and puppy love, and what we thought was real love

Days were something to endure while we waited for the night to come

That’s when the magick happened:  our hearts free to explore; an open book 

waiting to be written;

attractions so magnetic – highly charged and bittersweet

because somehow, we knew this couldn’t last

Life happens.  

Like going to sleep and waking up in a different world

What we call maturity is somehow a gain and a loss all at once;

you can get disoriented along the way

Society telling us we should look like this, live like that, own this, pray for that

Frustration mounts, comes to a head

and we suddenly know what we must do

what matters

A plan forms in the very depths of our hearts

because there are still those among us who have stayed true to theirs

an inspiration greater than all

waiting in the wings to be wholly and completely embraced once again

by the metal hearts who have decided ~ it’s high time.

If you are living a lie, then you are wasting time because you are merely a shell

of what you should truly be

Because what really matters is what is in your heart

and to that you must stay true

 

Little Square House

cottage

I once lived in a little square house.  Downstairs it had a kitchen, dining room, and living room.  Upstairs, a bathroom and bedroom with a makeshift closet along the hallway that connected the two rooms.  It was sturdy and brick.  When I had the shingles replaced on the roof, the carpenters exclaimed over the hardness of the oak boards underneath.  I replaced the old “shutter style” windows with new, vinyl windows and had one opening done in all glass block.  No more snow getting in on the inside like it used to!  So this house was nothing fancy, but I kept it clean and cute.  

The yard was nice and big with trees and a half circle drive.  The back yard led down into the woods where a trail opened up to a large, fast-flowing stream.  If you followed the stream up, you would find yourself in a graveyard.  This led to much speculation on my part as to whether the stream itself could be haunted (haha) ~ just par for the course of my wild imagination.  But it was a pretty setting.

This little square house was old.  I imagined that it could have been the carriage house for a much larger and grander house that stood down the road.  At one time, in the past.  Maybe.  Either way it was a pretty place even though it was small and old.  It was the first house I ever owned, and since I was only in my early 20’s, I was pretty proud of myself.

So it was with some dismay when I heard a guy I was dating describe my house to others as, “she lives in this BOX….” said with a mild hint of disgust…as if I was living in a cardboard box under a bridge or something.  In fact, he lived in what can only be described as a “U” – which was actually a small, generic-looking, U shaped apartment in a building with lots of other U shaped apartments.  So okay, I may have lived in a square and he in a U, but you didn’t hear ME knocking his U!  In fact, I’d never have thought to do so.    

But I always remembered him saying that, and the look on his face, and it made me feel insecure and self-conscience about my little square house.  It shouldn’t have, but it did.  I wondered if, since he felt that way, is that what others thought, too?  Should I have cared?  No!  But at that age, I did very much care what others thought.  In fact, this was just one of several places I lived that was good for me, but that other people I knew criticized.  What’s funny is that the people who usually criticized me didn’t really have any room to talk.  They weren’t doing any better or more fabulously than me!  It shouldn’t have bothered me.  

Eventually I moved, as I always knew I would, and I sold the house after a few years.  When I think of it, that little square house reminds me of some of the tiny houses that are so popular now.  It wasn’t exactly that small, though, but it really was super efficient and a perfect place for me at the time.  I don’t have an actual picture of the house – the image is from google but hopefully will give you the gist.  The actual house was a little bigger and had windows on the second floor with dormers.  But that’s the general idea.  The house is still in my family.  I sold it to my dad who rents it out.  

A Night Time Stroll

metal-couple-2haunted-house

In honor of a night time stroll

I won’t let you down; you should say no more!

Here, take my hand.  Let’s walk out this door

to be young again, like we did before…

The air will be warm, a balmy night

We’ll grab beers to go and a smoke to light

As we make our way down an empty street

moon light, flood light, crickets on repeat

At the end right there an ancient house stands

old as can be and many times changed hands

I dare you, you dare me:  should we go inside?

But we both know we will, we’ve nothing to hide

It’s a sinister place, though, and shadowy too

you win some, you lose some – and this place was through

We make it as far as the front drawing room

creaking and cracking; apprehension-filled gloom

Spiraled stairs wind their way to where no one should stay

dusty spirals looming in historic disarray

we don’t dare ascend as the floors may give way

our hearts beating faster; shadows tremble and sway

A moment to kiss, take a swig and a smoke

the excitement we share from our spooky little joke

We keep quiet for reasons we don’t even know

it was fun while it lasted, but it’s time to go!

A blood moon is calling, a lunar rip tide

Hold my hand, hold on tight – an excitement filled ride!

Ride the waves with me, kiss the stars

The night time is ours!

Be my scary little darling; my night time delight

May the morning never come, make it last all night

We want to live in it, breathe it in

You make everything all right.

couple

When Your Job Is Just…a Job

Passion, meaning, purpose, fulfillment etc. – all words that have haunted me for at least the last 10 years of my working life.  Why?  It seems like everywhere I go, everywhere I read, these are the words that in some way we should be able to use to describe the work/career aspect of our lives.  That’s right – it’s all about doing something we love, doing something that gives us purpose and fulfillment, doing something meaningful.  And the real doosie:  it should be our PASSION!

That’s all well and good, but it also seems to be extremely difficult to attain.  For me, work has mostly been something I do to earn money.  Maybe it’s the way I grew up or was raised, but to me, a job involved being realistic and practical.  It wasn’t supposed to be fun; it was something you did to make money.  Passion?  What passion?  There has rarely been any “passion” involved.  Sure, I’ve enjoyed some jobs more than others, but I can’t think of one job I’ve had that I would consider particularly meaningful – at least not to me.  In my younger years, it hadn’t really bothered me too much.  As long as I had extra money for the things I liked to do (like travel and go to concerts), I was okay with the daily grind of going to work to simply earn a paycheck.  But as I’ve gotten older, there’s been this constant nagging feeling that what I do every day should have more meaning behind it.  In addition, the internet is flooded with articles about following your passion and discovering your ideal career.

support-group

With ideas like this in my head; well, I’ll be honest – I’ve been miserable.  Each day at work felt pointless.  I would count the hours until I could go home and do the things I really loved; like reading, writing, taking long walks, riding my bike, growing plants, etc.  I love life itself, but this idea that I needed to be passionate about my work left me feeling depressed.  Most of my jobs have involved accounting in some way, shape or form.  This is something I’m good at, but it’s certainly not something I’m passionate about, nor is it something I find particularly fulfilling.  Even so, I had resigned myself to it.  Counting beans was just something I did, so that in my free time I could do the other things that I love to do.

So, it was with a sense of real relief that I stumbled across an article on Forbes that put a whole new spin on the idea of finding fulfillment at work.  While grammatical errors are a pet peeve of mine (I wonder if even the author himself had read this over), the article itself put forth an important message: “stop thinking you need to find fulfillment from your day job”.  Here’s an excerpt:

“But, here’s a benefit.  The moment you stop thinking you need to find fulfillment from your day job, you are going to be at least somewhat happier.  No, nothing about the job will have changed, but your attitude about it will. You will no longer expect that your day job to provide you with fulfillment. That’s a small step in the right direction. It’s totally within your reach and it costs you nothing”

http://www.forbes.com/sites/actiontrumpseverything/2012/06/19/why-work-does-not-have-to-be-fulfilling/#7dd5094970c8 Paul B. Brown

What an idea!  This goes against everything I’ve been reading and thinking, and you know what?  I love the idea!  It has made me feel much more relaxed and at ease than I was before.  Here’s what I take away from it:  I think for some people it’s achievable and they really do find work that they are passionate about.  Good for them!  If you’re in that group, you are a very lucky person.  Then there’s the rest of us.  Maybe we are good at something, it earns us money, it keeps us busy, and it’s at least tolerable.  BUT it’s not “fulfilling”, it doesn’t involve any one of our passions, and getting up in the morning to do it doesn’t exactly thrill us.  If that’s the case, then I think what needs to be done is this:  we need to focus on what our passion or passions are and still make sure they are a big part of our life.  Just because we aren’t completely fulfilled at work, doesn’t mean we can’t feel that way outside of work.  We must still focus on our passions because they are what make us who we are, and they are what makes us happy and gives us purpose.  For example, if writing is a passion of yours, continue to set aside time to write – even if it’s during a break, or here and there on weekends or after work.  Continue to do the things that motivate you outside of work.  If our personal life is fulfilling, that feeling will spill over into our professional lives; especially if the pressure is off in trying to find what isn’t there at our jobs.

And who knows what may happen if we continue to explore and get better at our true purpose!

 

Good Will Pile

It’s about three weeks into my minimalizing, simplifying, decluttering, and reorganizing project for my room/house and my life – and I’m discovering many things, and figuring out many more.  One of the first things I’ve discovered is that it’s not easy letting go of some things, especially if you have gone through periods of your life when things were hard to come by.  For me, that was much of my younger life when I was first starting out on my own; and other times, like when I didn’t have a job when my daughter was very young.  There were some tough times there when I honestly couldn’t afford to just go shopping.  I had to be very frugal and get by on very little.  If someone gave me something I could use, I was very grateful for it.  Times like these make us value things in our lives much more than when things are easy to come by.  So, this is something I must keep in mind as I’m deciding what I can or cannot live without.  There are those moments of, “maybe I should keep that just in case….”, and that feeling can be hard to overcome.

One thing that helps me is starting a “Good Will Pile”.  Now, I’ve done this on and off for years, but this time I’m doing it to a much greater extent than ever before.  After all, I have been averaging a donation of at least one large bag per week:  full of clothes, jewelry, shoes, books, etc.  The way it works is very simple:  I start the “pile” with an item I am ready to give away.  Once the pile is started, I continue to add to it, and I’ve noticed something.  As difficult as it may be for me to decide to let an item go, once it is on that pile, I’m done with it.  There’s no looking back.  I never need to rethink it.  It really works for me to just get it on that pile!

One of the items on the pile this week is an old jewelry box that an ex-boyfriend gave me a long time ago.  It’s a large one, with a couple doors, drawers, things to hang necklaces or bracelets on, and a ring drawer that opens down with slots for rings.  I remember being so happy when he gave it to me.  I thought it meant he really liked me.  Well, he turned out to not be a very nice person at all, and he left me.  We had been sharing an apartment together at the time, and when he left he took the one and only TV we had – even though he was moving back home with his well-to-do parents (in a house with several TV’s)!!  For years, I have held on to this jewelry box, and when I would see it I would, inevitably, think about him.  Now that the jewelry box is on the Good Will Pile, I can already feel the idea of him slipping away!  In fact, I can’t wait till I go on my weekly run to donate so that I can get rid of the thing and never think of him again!  It’s very interesting – the effect material objects have on us.  And if we associate them with bad feelings or not-so-great people from our past, well then they certainly need to go.  It really is true:  out of sight, out of mind!

In the process of cleaning out the jewelry box, I found many items that I knew I would never wear again.  I also discovered something else:  I probably have enough earrings to last me for THE REST OF MY LIFE!  Seriously!  It’s unbelievable how many pairs I have, that I could never get to because everything was so chaotic as far as my jewelry storage.  I’ve got things narrowed down, and have gotten rid of a lot of stuff I didn’t want, and now I can actually see what I’ve got and start using them.

On a final note, it’s already getting easier to get myself ready in the morning.  While I still have a ways to go on the clothes, just the minimizing I’ve done so far has been a big help.  Everyday when I think about the lifestyle I am choosing to live, I get a little thrill from it.  It just feels really good – to know that I’m moving toward a simpler, yet more fulfilling life.  And in the process – getting rid of some old baggage.