Day 39 - Struggling into the New

I'm sitting alone as I post this entry. Steve's almost off to work, everyone else is asleep. Kari and Brian came in last night. I've missed her so much. She hasn't spent a summer here since her first after high school. I don't blame her, but the knowledge that she will never spend more than a few days at a time in the house makes me sad. The thought that I have to dust her room every now and then because there's no one there to keep it lived in and dust-free. Yesterday was a tough day (just ask Melissa), and I don't know why. You could blame the rain, blame the clouds, blame blame blame, but I look inside myself for the answers these days, and mostly can just strive to sit with my discomfort, as Pema Chodron encourages. Take some deep breaths, know that it will pass. But I have to DO something about something, don't I? Well, has that ever worked before? Le Duh - no. So, what can I do that's new, fresh, not my predicted behavior? Searching my brain, coming up blank. How about "doing nothing?" Doing nothing with my discomfort, my resentment, my frustration, my fear, my sadness, my anger, and just continuing on? Can I do that? What other choice do I have?

What was yesterday? Yesterday was fatigue. Jordan phoning us 1 1/2 hour past curfew, then leaving again, me not getting back to sleep until 4:30AM. Not getting to go for a walk because Steve left for work and I'm responsible for taking care of Bill for the summer. Now I hear what you're saying - get a babysitter, and I answer you back, "Sometimes I get tired of being responsible for all of the things I'm responsible for, yet I don't know how to get off that hamster wheel. How do you just let some things drop, like housework, errands, cooking, cleaning, childcare? How do you choose what's fair to you? How do you talk with others in a calm voice? Why does it all have to be so difficult?"

I imagine sometimes that I'm a nun, with no possessions at all. How did I accumulate so much? I ponder that as I sift through the piles of papers, important pictures, letters from friends, dishes I never use, enough blankets to keep a small city warm. What does that say about my insides? Does everyone have a lot of stuff? Donna calls my brain a fast-flowing river with white caps. I suppose she's right. I take a deep breath and try to stay present, but Rusty is barking, I'm wondering if I should empty the dishwasher and clean up after everybody who stayed up later than me last night. I don't think I will today. I think I'lll wait until they wake up and ask them to clean up after themselves. I think they'll be glad to do that. I'm thinking they will. I wonder what will happen today, and I walk the fine line between manifesting my abundance, and just enjoying the ride as it unfolds. The sun is shining, the rain has washed the dust away, and it's a clean start again.