That little canvas was a gift from a woman I’ve never met.
Truth be told, I saw it and it scared me.
I wanted what I wanted goddammit. Or I thought I did.
I just moved to a beautiful house. There was a boy. He returned.
Then I saw another door.
And peeked at the other side.
Right on time it seems. Always is.
On February 14th 2018 I will have been emancipated from my sham of a marriage for 7 years.
7 years prior, right around the same time of year, was when I entered that particular contract.
It takes 3 weeks to make or break a habit. Or, if you are me, 7 years.
The time before the farm and the marriage was rather unremarkable.
7 years split between 2 alcoholics, or 10 between 3 if I am being honest and I always am.
I left one version of perdition for another, though I did not know it at the time.
Maybe I was paying my penance forward, or I just needed lessons upon motherfucking lessons.
I didn’t realize until I had long left the farm how much I learned. Physically, mentally and practically.
I can survive quite nicely on my own. Keep a house warm in winter, feed many with little. Grow things, tend to the sick, make an awful lot out of nothing and survive absolutely everything up until this point.
I know how to pack my car to live quite comfortable for quite some time. I can build homes from nothing, just 4 walls and a bed.
And I am on my way to do just this.
It is my belief that we have certain fates, karma (whatever you want to call it) to fulfill. Certain people we are supposed to meet. I have had soul sisters, soul brothers and soul mates galore. I see them clearly now. And they are calling me home.
I am not saying our whole life is planned out before we are born, no no. But I think in each life we have universal obligations to meet. Soul mates to find and teach, who will in turn teach us. And a whole lot of lessons about what we don’t want.
I have felt the discord and agony of playing small, hiding from what I should be doing and apparently, every 7 years it gets to be too much for me, so little by little then all at once, I get the courage to run into the future.
I imagine I felt (and feel) like a cicada when it is time to wake up and start singing.
I have been dormant long enough.
This time though, I welcomed my lessons, invited new, rearranged all of my broken bits into a beautiful mosaic.
I feel good. Strong. Prepared.
So it’s been 7 years.
Second verse, same as the first.
I am currently mentally sorting my belongings, what goes what stays, moving things around in yet another in a long line of storage spaces. Do I keep my bed? It is the first big girl bed I ever bought that wasn’t a futon. How much stuff can I fit in my car? What do I need to make me happy where I am going?
I have realized the answer is ‘not much’.
I am already content where I will be.
There is a prolific absence of doubt.
I have done the dress rehearsal for this. I know my lines and directions.
I have practiced this so much it is all coming naturally to me.
The foundation has been laid, stage set.
All I have to do now is move into the future.
Sacred contracts waiting to be filled.