Sunday, December 29, 2013

Extreme Pet-sitting

December 19, 2103.

Yesterday I finally accepted my busy future fate and surrendered to one 40-hour per week job (starts January 16) plus two part-time jobs. For the past week I had flung myself around the house in full martyr mode, bemoaning my fate. I had called four friends trying to gain sympathy, but no dice. Each one talked about a time in their life that was extremely busy. All four were positive and saying peppy things like, “I worked six days a week for three years because I wanted to build my retirement,” “Well, I have to work hard during the busy season,” “Make hay while the sun shines,” and "I was so busy working that I didn't have time to spend money."


Once I got over myself, I decided to work in the main house where there is an Internet connection. (I am caretaker at a ranch that is for sale and live in the cozy detached guest house.) I opened the door and saw five cows grazing on the pristine lawn in front of the house. They were escapees from the neighboring ranch. I set down my computer and rushed toward them, clapping and shooing. The last cow stood still, looking at me with bovine indifference. As I herded them up a small slope I quietly told them how much happier they'd be once they were home with their other cow friends. They moved up the slope and I scooted by them and opened the gate. I waved my arms in a forward sweeping motion. They didn't budge. I climbed the hill behind them and rushed at them again clapping and shouting. All five scurried neatly through the gate.

I call this extreme pet-sitting.

This happened 10 days ago. Finally I trust that I am headed the right way into a full working life. I see my Higher Power standing ahead of me, coaxing me forward. This is the big difference between how my HP does things and how I do things. My HP coaxes me, I herd myself. My HP stands a few yards ahead of me, waving me on.  I stall and try to garner sympathy from friends and waste time gnashing my teeth, drinking a little too much wine and watching too many TV series, but so what? 

My question is: how do I stay awake during this process? How do I take my poetry heart, which requires vast empty space and keep it open as I move through my very scheduled days? One step here. One breath there. I don't always feel that happy about where I am being led, but by now, I trust where I am being led.

This season I've had to forgo lots of holiday events in order to take care of myself as I juggle three part-time jobs. (I still am slightly worried about my writing time when one of the jobs gratefully goes full-time.) I've been happy to stay home with two pet-sitting charges: a dog named Sammy and a cat named Jimmy, both female. We hang out in my snuggly room with my Pic N' Sav tree and listen to Xmas music. I love Xmas music. On Xmas morning I lit the wood stove and danced in the kitchen to a Xmas mix I created in 2008.

Recently, while I was watching Downton Abbey in my room, I felt my HP calling me inside the big house. I searched for lights left on, water running then I thought a work-related phone call would be returned. Instead I looked out the large kitchen window and saw a rainbow. I stepped outside onto the patio. One end was bright, shimmery, yet subtle and seemingly anchored to the earth. I walked down into the field for a better look. The center of the rainbow was pale, barely perceptible as it arched over the orange groves like a gentle, sweet promise and disappeared behind the hills to the east.