Spending the Day Alone

Left to my own devices, I am a recluse. I don't know if it has to do with poor self esteem or just a general personality tendency, but the bottom line is that it is work for me to be with large groups of people and I crave time to myself.

And today, I am home alone. My partner has headed out to California ahead of me, and I am hanging around at home to go to class tomorrow night and to (hopefully) substitute teach during the day.

So, I have the house to myself and 100% freedom to do anything that I want to do. I'd like to think that I spent the day eating really healthy foods, exercising, reading significant litereature and doing my art class homework. After all, that's what I have been doing just about everyday since I quit my job.

I did do the art class homework.

But other than that, breakfast was a chai latte and a cranberry bliss bar from Starbucks; dinner was wine; and I spent some time on You Tube reliving the engagement of William and Kate and the antics of the Osmonds' careers.

Okay, okay, okay. I'll rephrase. It was a lot of time on You Tube.

Don't lose faith in me. Please. I may like spending time alone, but it's pretty clear to me that I am at with my best when I am with people!

Fixing Things...

We upgraded our master bathroom this summer from what I would call "dorm room chic" to something more along the lines of "grown up." No whirpool - no tub - no sauna - but the shower is new and modern and I like it.

This week, not 10 weeks since it was installed, the shower would only produce cold water. This brought to mind images of taking down the tile wall to get at the plumbing and paying thousands of dollars to re-do and/or repair the entire thing. Not great images.

Normally, even without discussing it, the understanding would be that the shower was my partner's to deal with. She is good with contractors, plumbers and electricians and I am perfectly happy to let her handle those "Ms. Fix It" items as they come up.

But this week, while I was standing near - but not quite in - the cold shower, I noticed that a valve cover was loose. This was new. With a bit of curiosity, I opened the cover, revealing a fairly straightforward screw.

Hmmm.... I was tempted. What would happen if I unscrewed the screw? Is their electricity invovlved with the shower pump? (yes, I asked myself this) Will I make everything worse? Will water come shooting out of the pipe?

In an unusual, and somewhat unfamiliar, boost of confidence I decided to unscrew the screw, separating some valve components and revealing some non-descript movable parts. So far, so good: no water was pouring from the pipe; I lived to tell the tale.

Now what? Figuring I had not much to lose, I moved some of those non-descript movable parts in no particular direction, screwed the thing back together and turned on the water. (I did all of this quickly, figuring I had about 30 seconds before the plumbing would all fall apart in some disastrous way that I wouldn't be abele to fix.)

And there was hot water. Yes, Hot water. I fixed the shower. The sense of accomplishment with this is overwhelming - not becuase it was hard to do (because it wasn't) but because I had the courage to try. I had an idea, and I acted on it. I was a willing to take a risk.

In some ways, its a tangible example of growth that I know I am experiencing, but can't quantify and have no good way of evaluating. I am doing okay as a substitute teacher, for example, but there are no road marks to let me know how well I am doing or what mistakes I am making. One does not get immediate results from substituting or exercising or anything that I am doing right now.

So when that shower poured out hot water and I had clearly succeeded in an unfamiliar task, I latched onto the feeling of success like an omen. I am learning. I am getting stronger. I am embracing new experiences. And it is good.

Vacation!

We are heading out to Palm Springs, California for Thanksgiving next week, and I am really looking forward to it. I know... I know... I quit my job and I am on a permanent vacation of sorts and I probably should not need a vacation. But I do.

I have crammed SO MUCH into this first month of "unemployment." My first gigs as a substitute teacher, doing some editing for my old job and doing some networking in case I need to get a new job. I've done my school homework, exercised and taken the time to actually cook some meals. A vacation sounds like a darn good idea!

In addition to a vacation, I really want to celebrate Thanksgiving. This will be our second holiday season without Molly. Last year, we celebrated Thanksgiving in California (we have family there), and it feels right to fly out there again.

When Molly was alive, we would often rent a condo in Florida for the Thanksgiving week; it was a way to get away, spend time as a family, and just recharge our batteries. They were some of my favorite holidays ever - laid back, comforting and familiar. My guess is that it would be almost impossible for my parnter and I to settle into Florida for the holiday week again - Molly's absence would overwhelm us.

On the other hand, if I take the extra weight of holiday memories off of a place, I have enjoyed re-visiting places that Molly loved. Molly visited California a lot and was very much a part of the family out there. It will be great to visit and celebrate Thanksgiving in a fresh way - in a place that Molly knew and with people that she loved.

Our holidays will never be the same - and I don't expect them to be. But we will still have holidays. It's time for new traditions that honor our past and celebrate today. And it is time for a vacation!

Exhaustion and Authenticity

I was really tired driving home from school tonight. I almost missed my exit, practically caused several accidents, and felt mysef getting too close to the cement lane dividers. In the past (yes, it has happened before) that type of drive home has been the result of emotional exhaustion.

Today, I can assure you, my bad drive was the result of physical exhaustion. After teaching 2nd grade all day, walking a 5K, and taking my evening art class, I am tired for all the right reasons: a day well spent, challenges met and new skills learned - if not mastered.

This new life, where I go to school and do hard work that doesn't pay much, is costing us about $50,000 a year. At least $50,000 a year. I was worth way more money sitting behind a desk that I am worth in a classroom.

But I was exhausted for all the wrong reasons when I was sitting at a desk. I used to end the day exhausted from office politics, worn out from an excessive commute and bored with the work that I was doing. My days lacked authenticity.

Authenticity may cost something - it may cost tens of thousands of dollars a year and a lot of exhausting effort. It is a price I am privliged to be able to pay.

A Thought for the Day

So... I stumbled across this quote today: "There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you." Maya Angelou

Every cell of my body resonates to that sentiment. I know the agony, but I can't quite hear the story.

Yet.

Art and Thanksgiving

Well, my art class might actually be making a difference. I have got to believe that the average 5th grader could have produced the watercolor at the left, but for me it is a BREAKTHROUGH. I really can't believe I painted it.

The painitng is of Molly's teddy bear and a ceramic dog that she painted when we visited Busch gardens and didn't want to go on any more roller coasters. The dog's right ear broke off at some point, and somehow that makes me love it more than if it were perfect. We are all broken in some way.

Thanksgiving is right around the corner... and with it the realization that our holidays have been permanently and forever changed. But, that doesn't mean that we dread them; it just means that we are going in to them with no expectations. The holidays of the past are over, and we loved them. What great memories.

But we are still holiday people. We still believe that people need to celebrate new beginnings and that it is good to remember to be thankful. We still believe that turkey tastes good and that Christmas trees can inspire a sense of awe and gratitude. And we will always believe that our bonds with both the people on this earth and those gone before are worth celebrating.

So no, I don't dread the holidays. But I don't expect much of them either. I'm pretty sure that they will be as good as I decide to let them be.

Ah, yes. Not that long ago, the phone was a convenient way to talk with people. It was a miracle really; one could talk with just about anyone at any time. Distance was rendered irrelevant by a black box with a cord, a clever handset, and a dial.

I got a new miracle today. An android. It appears that this phone is capable of setting off World War III, and I am not that good with it. You have been warned.

Serioulsy, the android funcitons as a phone, but that is really not why it exists. The android exists to put the accumulated knowledge of all time (inlcuding every fast breaking Tweet) in my hand. I can do just about anything from this little device, and technically it could replace my Ipod, my Kindle, my camera and probably my computer if I could stand the small keypad. It is even its own Wi-Fi hot spot. There is a booklet and a DVD to tell you how to make a phone call. I will never figure it all out and I am pretty sure that I don't need to.

The android also replaces Molly's phone that I have been using since she died. Molly used it to text her therapist just minutes before her death. Her phone stores pictures that Molly had taken. When Molly was alive, it was a daily connection between us - she really loved that thing! - and after she died it was a comfort for me to be able to use it. But it doesn't ring anymore and its way beyond time for it to be upgraded.

She would have loved the android. She'd probably already have it programmed to do all sorts of things; all her friends would have their own ringtones. She'd skype with it and download apps and probably lose it more than once if I know her.

I have kept all of her picutres and copied her texts. But in retiring her phone, I am adding to my understanding - my deep understanding - that she is not here anymore. And I miss her.