harold_maude's journal

I just finished reading a letter from my daughter. It was full of wonderful things.
I was happy for her, and her brother. And for their father.
He has this wonderful life.
I realize that none of this wonderful would have occured had I stayed.

When I left I never asked for anything. People told me I was crazy. But my thinking and belief on the subject was why should I?
I relinquished all rights to any property, and everything else for that matter. I felt like those things were never mine in anyway shape or form.
In fact, my view at the time was this: I felt like I should be paying him to live in his house.

So I left with my clothes, 3 blankets and a couple of pans some food that would help and about 600 dollars in my pocket that I had saved.

My life now, as it is, has been a lesson in learning that no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do to make a difference it's a moot point.
Anything good that I've said or thought, I believe has come from somewhere other than me.
I can't take credit for anything other than my screw ups.
And the decision I make on several occasions not to become a raging drunk.

The things of wisdom that I have written down have been like birds that have flown in some window in my head and I thought they were pretty cool so I just reported what I was seeing, I think that's why my head is on overload. The window is open 24/7 like a convinence store that stays open all year.

They come from somewhere else, and for what ever reason, I'm just bright enough to write about them.

If they did belong to me, generated from some brilliant hole in my head I think I would know it.
It would feel different when I would see them in my head.

So I've come to this conclusion, I'm dust in waiting.
That's all. That's it.
Bottom line.
I'm very sure there will be arguments to the contrary. But please if there are, kindly say nothing.
There is no point in trying to see what I can see from any other perspective.
The good things that do come arn't for me. I don't get to enjoy them, they are for other people.
I'm just a box, with a lid that someone comes and fills with stuff till it overflows.

I do know this, that who ever is filling the box with the good stuff is very very wise and very smart.
And if your amazed by anything, be amazed by this, that there is someone who would consider putting those things in this box so that they could be said.

I am convinced, by the course of my life, that this is right.
I'm only dust in waiting...that's all.

Today has been brillant. Not so much in the weather, although the sun is blazing away in a sea of saphire, but the little things, one by one, and the sheer enjoyment that each thing brought with it.
Maybe I just got to see the world for a little while from a clear place.

It started last night. We had our first social gathering, ie. a fire in over a year.
People actually showed up.
The fire itself was this mountian of brush, branches and peices of furniture that needed to be put out of their misery.
Inspite of being sprayed with water, it took off and made this amazing roar of yellow white light.
Every thing around it was soaked with water as well because with the wind that was blowing it could have ignited a couple of buildings and set a good portion of the farm on fire.
It was magnificant.

As it got later into the evening, and no one had come yet, I began to think, here we go again.
No one is going to come. There will be the same round of reasons as to why they couldn't come, and even though those of us who live here will have a great time, it will be missing the company of people who would add to how good it can be.

Then about 11:30 they started rolling in.
I'm glad I was wrong about people not showing up. The people who did come were the perfect blend of individuals.
It reminded me of sitting down to a really awesome dinner.
:)

Since some of the people who came are familiar with my art, the question of new work came up.
I brought some peices I've been working on, transitional mostly, going from watercolor alone to watercolor bases with pen and ink over it.
One of the guys found a peice that he fell in love with, which always makes me happy.
And he asked how much I wanted for it, I hate that part.
I find the idea of someone asking me for a price on something I got to participate in because I generally have no idea.
Art is like breathing for me.
How can you put a price tag on breathing?

I asked him to make me an offer I can't refuse. I love approaching things that way because it gives a person a chance to tell me by what they offer me it's value to them.
But I find that most people have trouble dealing with buying things that way, due to they normally don't have to think about the value of something they want.

But me being me and the idea of throwing out the box going 70 miles down the freeway, which from my perspective is what is really going on when you ask someone to make you an offer you can't refuse, is delicious.

So we talk abit about it, and I decide on 40 dollars.
Then he hands me a 50, and tells me it's worth alot more, but that's all he had with him.
That was extrodinary. The idea that someone would feel that way and be willing with out fussing and complaining about the price of something, is what made it extrodinary for me.

Earlier in the day I had just finished spending almost all the change I had left to buy gas with and was wondering if my final check had come in early because of the holiday on monday, and knowing I would be driving on monday, wondering if the amount of gas I bought would be enough til tuesday when the banks would be open and then there would be enough to fill the gas tank.

Now to understand the whole picture fully, what I consider of great value in terms of material things no one else seems to share my view.
I have nothing that I can pawn off if the need arises.
And it was at that point yesterday that it would have been great to be able to go to the pawn shop and get enough money to at least put the tank at half full.
But there was nothing.
Then the painting sold. 50 bucks. I filled the gas tank and even got to buy toilet paper which we were completely out of and food too!
Everything I put into my cart at the grocery store was wonderful.
To not have to count change and know that there was enough.
What a gift.

What makes it even better is this, the check did come, but almost all of the money is earmarked for something.
There is just enough in the check for some very basic things.
And since I'm jobless again, the food money is a very small part of that check.

Needless to say, tonight I'm making burgers with cheese, and we're having grapes for desert.
They are going to taste beyond amazing.
And when dinner is done, we'll just hang out until the stars come out and then we'll go outside and enjoy the night sky, and ponder deep things and ask questions and dream.

It's been a perfect day. Actually a perfect weekend. A long time comming. But well worth waiting for. :)

This morning I noticed that some of the trees here are starting to show signs that summer is about to vacate the premises and the brief days of fall will be here.

I love fall. The color that drenches trees and dots the landscape with more yellows and browns as the crops get ready for harvest.
It's never long enough for me.
The birds who spend their summer here will be off to somewhere else, and I will miss them too.
Soon the berries and apples will ripen and that tangy delicious smell of woodsmoke drifting in from somewhere will fill the air.

Besides the color that explodes in Autumn, the season brings with it other wonderful stuff, warm sweaters and it's cool enough to start baking and making cider and other mulled drinks, and besides it makes a great excuse to curl up under warm blankets.
The star gazing should be awesome too.
And it seems that when you have fires in the fall their more cozy as well.
The bugs will die down, so less fighting with mesquetos.
Long walks through the woods, and the deer will be wandering through the feilds too.

We'll have more rain as well, and I'll pull out my oversized slippers that resemble Ernies' shoes (Ernie from Sesame street) and I'll put them on, and my feet will be comfy.

Before I can think about it and enjoy it to my hearts content, it will be gone.
That's the only thing I don't like about it.
Sometimes it reminds me of a really great kiss that happens and I wish it would go on for a long time, but it dosen't and all I can do is wait for another one to happen.

I'd love to find one of thoes waterballs that used to be very common, but now they are more expensive and harder to find, one that has little leaves and a forest that one could get lost in but never feel lost while they are there.
On top of all of this, when fall comes and passes into winter another year of my life will have ended.

It used to be that when September came I was over joyed and excited all the time.
It repersented the door opening to the best time of the year for me.
The season of leaves changing color, wood smoke, halloween and my birthday.
All in just a few months.

Things change as life happens. Somewhere along the line I grew to hate my birthday, and it had nothing to do with the changing numbers, but more to do with how alone I felt when it came.
It didn't really seem to matter to alot of people when it came.
It finally got to the point where I dreaded it's arrival.
I'd get out of the house and stay out as long as I could just to avoid any phone calls that might come along.
Now I just don't tell people what day my birthday is.
I just let it pass in peace, and try not to think about what it could be.
I still get the phone call from one of my sisters, and a card from my mother.
The other half of me doesn't really take notice of it, and I don't remind him.

It will come with Autumn, and it will fade into the shadows and still of winter. And I'll try not to think about it.
I'll just love the color that comes for the time it's here and when it turns to brown and then the shades of cold, I will wish it had stayed longer.
I would glady trade most of summer for a long slow Autumn.
Oh say about 6 or 8 months worth would be just fine.

But that place doesn't exist except maybe in one of those waterglobes....

There are three baby kitties asleep on the bed right now.
There is Little Annie, the runt who has the guts and courage of a lion. She is so named for Annie Okaklee, a gustys young woman who was with Wild Bill Hicocks wild west show.

There is The Letter M, that's her name, a very fluffy grey little girl who is content to be as close as she can to the person holding her while she purrs with all her heart.

And then there is the other little girl, we haven't found her name yet. She is black with silver on her feet, and seems happy just to be in a safe place.

They are all so quiet. Except when the meow now and then. When they see us they meow very excitedly and wobble and occasionally tumble over their own feet as they make their way to say hello.

Now and again they squeek too. I wish we had baby ducks here too.
It would be soo cool to get some duck eggs and hatch them.
They would imprint and then for the rest of their lives we would get to enjoy the company of ducks.
From the fuzzy little footed wandering quackers to old friends who you can share a tuna fish sandwhich with now and again.
What a thought.
I can hear it now...a conversation that would go something like this:
"so what did you have for dinner?"
"we had hotdogs"
"we had ducks for dinner and we all ate tuna fish sandwhiches"
"you ate the ducks? And then the tuna?"
"no, the ducks ate with us, and we all had tuna"
"you eat with ducks?"
"yep. Great company and they are really good at keeping the flies down here."

This afternoon as I was out and about I saw it. The numbers, 2.89.
It's not done, and what happens next is pretty sure.
The cost of food will go up due to the cost of gas so that the trucks that trasport it will still be able to do so.
The businesses that rely on people being able to afford to drive there will suffer.
And one by one, the dominos have begun to fall.
The space between the rich and the poor grows wider.

I heard from one of the neighbors this morning that the gas station up the way had 12 drive offs.

It has begun. Unless there is a repealing of the gas tax or a ceiling put on how high the price can go, they've done it in Hawaii, we are headed for a fincial crash.

Without those two things, there is no time to adjust, refigure things, and go on.
Next will be the people who are barely making enough to take care of the bills and buy food. They will either have to take a second or third job to make ends meet, (one of the jobs will be just to pay for gas to get to all three) or they will have to quit their jobs, and subsequently face being homeless...

There are several people I know who are thrilled at the concept of everything crashing and this mess we've made finally staring at us in the face and there is nothing to do but simplify how we live.
All of it makes me want to get rid of my car, get a quad bike and go slower.
Makes me want to find a place out in the boondox and grow my own food and learn how to hunt with a bow and arrow and simplify everything around me.
Makes me want to escape from the city...completely.

I know it's comming. And depending on what happens over the next few months, what is possible will show it's self.

..funny thing is, I used to spend hours dreaming about being out in the middle of nowhere and living off the land and seeing if I could survive.
Seems that I may end up seeing that dream become the reality not only for me, but many other people.

It's very, very close now. This may sound strange, but in a way I tend to look at katrina as mother nature showing us who really is in charge here.
The question is are we listening?

Last night after I clocked out and was taking a bag of garbage to the dumpster, I noticed the manager was walking to keep up with me, and proceeded to tell me what I already knew was comming.
I knew on saturday when the feeling like I was sofocating hit me and stayed pretty much through my entire shift.

He told me that because business had been so slow in the evening that I was being cut.
I could see the writing on the wall weeks ago. After the owner helped his sons open this monstrosity and basicly signed the death warrent on his business.
Since the new store opened the place where I work has become a store house for the new store, and a place where massive prep work eats up time like a monster that is never satisfied.

Anyway, so I say to the manager "so is this my last night?"
This guy then says to me that I can finish the week out.
(the dog begging treatment here)
So I tell him, no I just won't come in anymore. And then he says well if we have any openings...and I reply no.

I'm pissed at the owner because he's told me so many times that I'm like the sister he never had, and that I'm family, and all this other bulshit, and doesn't have the respect or deciency to pull me aside before I started my shift, or even last night when I went to pick up the other half of me from the new store to talk to me then.
He tells the person I'm picking up that I won't have to come in on monday, that the day crew will handle things.
I was insulted.
The other reason I'm pissed off is this man, the owner is selling out for money.
He's got a wonderful reputation as making great food, and he's throwing it down the toilet for money.
That is so fucked.

It's funny, but I happen to believe that when a person does a job that it's important to do the very best you can.
It's a standard of integrety, and honor that no amount of money is worth.
If it was about the money for me I would never have taken the job in the first place.
It was about stepping into a new arena of learning, and doing something worth doing.
And this fucker, who is an artist in the kitchen is selling out.
The quality of the food used to be the best, now it's this crap that is only fit as dog or cat food.

When I go to pick up my check, if the owner is there, I will polietly tell him that I'm pissed at him because he made a big deal when he hired me that what he wanted from me was loyalty and honesty.
And I gave him that. I was never late. I went beyond the call of duty. I never wasted time by just standing around.
I got shit done.
And I did my best at everything I put my hands to.
And what does he do? He treats me like a dog and has his manager tell me.
No respect, no honor, no honesty.
He has completely lost his creditiblity with me.
Not that it will change anything in what he's doing. He's headed this wonderful little mom and pop store straight down the toilet, and that's a disgrace.
In this world where more and more everything from products to people are seen as disposable, to take something of real value and distroy it for the sake of money is disgusting and indecient.

A door is closed now. Another will open. There is work to be done.
Not the kind that ends up in a paycheck, but the kind of work that my life is about.
And if I don't do what it is that I was created to do, then my life will be a misery, and I'll have alot to answer for at the end of all things, and since I don't want to have to explain why I didn't do what my life was ment for in favor of doing things that don't matter and are trivial and pointless simply so I could surround myself with useless crap, I will move on to the next door, and when it closes I will move on again.
It's the way things are in my life.

Trying to explain this to people who only see so far is hard.
They don't understand why I see things the way I do.
And they are baffeled by this: I'm an excellent worker. What ever I put my hands to is always the best that I have to give.
And the jobs that I keep ending up in never last very long.

From the currant view of the world it makes no sense.
But that's not how all of this is ment to be viewed.
Each person has work to do. Their life means somthing in the great scheme of things.
The things they are ment to do are specificly their's to do.
They are given tools and equiped for the work ahead in life.
It makes up part of the natural flow of their life.

Problems arise when the flow isn't reconized or is ignored in favor of doing things that are momentary and pointless.
There is a bordom that exists and a disatisfaction that gnaws inside many people because they have no clue as to who they are and why they are here....the two biggest questions that come up and cause midlife crisis' to happen.
Is this all there is? What have I done with my life? Who the hell am I? What is the meaning of life? If I leave my life as it is now maybe it will be better...on and on and on.
When the answer is so simple....know who you are...learn why you are here.
Quiet and still yourself and find out.
And the idea of bordom will fade away. Because when you are doing what it is that you are ment to do, bordom has no place in your world.
It can't exist in a place with purpose.
It can't thrive in a place where everything has meaning.

I'm glad I know who I am. I'm glad I know my purpose. It dosen't make my frustration with the world less, and it dosen't make me grieve over stupid things people do any less deep.
But things will keep going on the way they have been for many many people and they will have mountians of regret at the end of their lives, and wonder why they couldn't see it before.

In reality I haven't lost anything of real value. All I lost with this was a paycheck. And that isn't anything to grieve over.
It's simply one door closing because another one is waiting to open. And that's the way it should be.
Time for change.

This post was edited by harold_maude on Aug 31, 2005.