next?

 

Change came through the front door like the Hogwart’s bus in the last twelve months. I know that change is the only constant, and I know well the Buddha’s teaching on impermanence…even so, there’s been a lot going on.

For many years it felt like things were stagnant, as mother’s care was front and centre. Life ran by roster and schedule. I couldn’t go to the supermarket without clearing time out with siblings. Someone always knew where I was. It just didn’t seem like it would ever change.

I went to Ireland! I’ve always wanted to stand where my ancestors did and breathe. To know why I feel Irish. The opportunity was thrown at me and it all happened in a rush.

Youngest, yes the ‘sick’ one, moved to America…also unexpected and sudden, and it’s done.

And then BOOM. Mother took her last breath surrounded by, touched by, all her offspring. The roller coaster went way, way down and had to instantly speed back to the peak…

Eldest married that gorgeous guy! Such a happy night under the stars. Smiles, laughter, speeches, tunes, friends, family. LOVE.

And those four major life events took place within two months…boom.

Without pause to process, the calendar flipped over, and work should have chugged along without brain engagement. (Yes, I’m aware of how ridiculous that sounds ;-) – obviously I use my brain in the office, but I know what I’m doing and the day flows..)

Something broke between my boss and I earlier this year, and maybe it’s not my escape anymore – I can see beyond this life.

I sold the old marital home. I’ve long wanted that part of my life gone and in this current ridiculously high market it was snapped up, to be torn down…new life.

The winds of change are swirling. Next?

I begin to think I must be dreaming again, sleeping better, because I have no responsibilities. Nothing to worry about when my eyes open. No need to check in or out.

And so next year I might take two voyages of discovery. Mid year back to the US to my baby’s graduation. Before that – an author friend let me know he’s hoping to lead a writing retreat in Laos. IF it goes ahead who wants to join me….Livonne do you have any travel plans next year? Robert, February in Luang Prabang?

I think I’m going to write the Irish story in Laos.

 

 

dream weaver

 

Tell me what you know about dreams.

I’ve been heard to say ‘I don’t dream, or if I do I don’t remember’ and it’s been true for the longest time. I haven’t slept well for a very long time either.

A couple of weeks ago, this winter suddenly became ridiculously cold. White flakes fell from the sky in places previously unknown. (Cameras came out, mountain road traffic jam)

I’m not sure if you dream when deeply asleep, but despite being so cold in this house I have finally found a happy medium in bed. I am toasty warm and achieving a good amount of zzz’s every night. Between me, the old cat, and the yak blanket life is good!

And the dreams began!

No waking in the darkness, first thing every morning I remember the intense, involved story from the night before. So much detail, so real. So much fun! All good dreams…

Are dreams premonitions? wishes? what, what?

a bit of character

 

Without benefit of parents the four siblings are a disparate bunch for many more reasons than I’ll go into here.

I just want to talk about heritage.

Sibling no. 1 only identifies as Scottish. Dismisses the Irish side and even the very real Australian that they actually are. The youngest doesn’t acknowledge being anything but of Irish descent.

They’ll be spending some time with extended family and no. 1 is nervous. ‘There’ll be conflict – those fighting Irish’. ‘We’re calm like the Scottish side’.

Nonsensical. Bollocks.

The Scottish side is repressed, anxious. Have a conversation, get it out in the open, come on.

I don’t believe any of these family characteristics have ethnic origins ;-)

 

a hit of caffeine

 

The guy with the grazed cheek had actually ordered before me but he got aggro about the ticking time and the barista, who looks like a heroin addict, served me first. You want good customer service don’t give the one behind the counter crap! Simple. Respect to he who wields the frothing jug.

He looked like he’d been in a fight. He was uncomfortable, shifting and glancing, and then I realised he was familiar…a footballer. The facial mess no doubt from last night’s game – got off lightly then!

I think he wanted to get in and out quickly – didn’t want to be recognised. And he had a girl waiting outside he wanted to impress – the slight caffeine delay probably didn’t have any affect. He needn’t have worried.

The waitress is pregnant – baby is barista boy’s. The waiter’s eyes indicate he likes a high as well. Catches my eye as he flourishes the salt grinder. There’s skill beyond that avocado on toast dish…

The coffee is good. Take away.