From house to barn to condo to apartment, Michelle and I are on the go. Hobos, no. More like Wayward souls. Pirates of the couch surf seas.
We are officially living out of our suitcases. 95% of our possessions sit in a storage POD, while we traverse the land of friend’s couches and extra bedrooms.
It feels like we’re starring in our own version of Away We Go, only instead of being pregnant with a baby- we’re encountering animals, animals, animals…
In the past 10 days, we have stayed in four different homes. We have discovered that Michelle thrives in the chaos- the planning, the mystery of the unknown, the puppies…
While I, supposedly the open-minded artist guy, drown in the mundane, the packing, unpacking, cleaning, and constant reorganizing of the car. My grandiose self shouts- I should be spending these precious moments making art, thinking great thoughts, writing poems, doodling…!
Don’t blame me (says reality) for your lack of freedom. You could be doodling more instead of bingewatching The New Pope.
Work harder. Make more art. Sacrifice sleep. Transcend. Go to meetings. Meditate more. Read more. Quit screwing around young Jedi.
This week, we are staying at the Wellstone Writers Retreat in Santa Cruz. Tonight is an open mic night, where I’ll be reading a new short story (Here’s where you can read some of my fiction). When I remember that everything is in alignment, that we are on a journey, that as I keep working on art, while trying to make spiritual progress, the path will continue to open- and there is nothing to complain about.
We will end up settled somewhere, at some point. Perhaps in Colorado. Perhaps in a mobile home. Until that point, I need to be more present. Stop complaining. Just for today- Here is a perfect place to be.