Running away, but not to Red Bank

The never-ending water story will not end until I find about fifteen thousand dollars or sell the house. Well. One way or another, I must find the money. I have tried to  come up with an amusing way to write about all this, but, as we who are royalty say, "We are not amused."

Not even a little.

We are, however, running away to a retreat center up in Rowe, Massachussetts--in the Berkshires. My friends have pooled resources to send me as an early birthday present. I will have my own cabin with bath, queen-sized bed (of COURSE) and kitchenette. The center, however, offers all three meals in the price. I have access to their kitchen to grab breakfast and lunch food, and their vegetarian chef prepares dinner. I will be the only guest in the whole place and I will have the use of part of the dining hall for a studio for all three days! I can leave my stuff set up and simply paint.

It is a writing and painting little getaway. I need to be away from the house, and be able to put the ridiculous little blow ups that are occurring here on hold for three nights. I've chosen two paintings in progress to take, and will begin a third while I am there. I am putting some of my things on a flash drive and am taking my poor old laptop which must be plugged in to work--and I have to duct tape the cord onto the laptop for it to stay in. However, then it works.

I think that the dancing and the incantations and the good wishes kept me from drowning in the muck, so this is good. I worked on the Red Bank and West Longbranch entry, but could not locate my comic timing. I think I left it in Hoboken by accident.

I DID join a singing group at my Unitarian Meeting House. A women's singing circle. The room is very large, but our group is not, so the sound does not set off my trigeminal nerve. This is wonderful, because for about fifteen years, singing was my main form of meditation. I sang in three choruses, and sang at house jams in PA, when I went out there. Sometimes it's a little too "women who run with wolves and channel their inner goddess while their inner children dance" for me, but mostly? Mostly it's a marvelous group of really smart, funny women who are learning not to worry whether the notes are "wrong" and dare to play with harmony. A voice jam, sometimes. Harmony is my thing, not solo work.

As for the spirit stuff, I think that this is MY problem, not a problem with the group. I'm just not comfortable with it is all. I am wary of goddess talk, just as I am wary of god-talk. My spirituality is my own, which is why I moved toward Unitarianism. I think, though, that this is something like a twelve step program--I take what resonates and leave the rest alone. ALL of it leads to music, so I thin I should simply get over myself and be grateful we have such a group!

Lifelines. I am surrounded by lifelines and it is a wonderful thing. BUT, I need to get away from here and envision once again what I want my path to be, and how it can be when I am finally unencumbered by roofs and sewers and plumbing and electricians.  Even though I will have about two thirds of the money we hoped I would have from selling the house--two thirds of just enough to get me through five years--if we sell, I know I will be better off than many are. I will still have a few years to find a way.

For now? For now I will enjoy every moment of my retreat. I don't care whether or not it rains. I will be in the mountains somewhere by a waterfall. What more do I need than that? Ironic, huh. Water has been less than friendly here, but I want to be by a waterfall. Perhaps I'll do an incantation. No. Better not.

Regardless, I am excited at the prospect of Tuesday through Friday. I will write about it when I come home. I have sent for my sense of comedy and I hope it will be sent back. Perhaps I can tell you the lovely story of how I was rejected for food stamps for not giving information for which I was never asked... I am filing an appeal.  Or how my lawyer is trying to prevent the town from penalizing us for not paying off a sewer lien on a sewer hook up we were told for fifteen years that we did not HAVE.

Ah, but that all is for another time. Today I tutor. Tomorrow I clean and pack. Tuesday I get in my car by 7 a.m. and wander north... meander is perhaps a better word.

Dance, pray, chant, laugh--all of it is good. I Hope you all are enjoying this spectacular May--New England in her Spring splendor.  I do not think I could really live all out and to the bone in a place that had no Winter. I HATE Winter a good bit of the time; but unquestionable, for me, it makes May all the more spectacular.

Take care, those of you who read my blog. Before I write, when I relocate my voice, I think I will need to listen to YOUR voices in your blogs.

... when I come home again.