I’m beginning to feel these dark days in my bones. Daylight savings time is upon us, so it’s going to get worse. I don’t know why it’s called ‘saving time’ because it takes the light away. Where is the savings in that? I complain every year, bitterly. Everyone who knows me expects unceasing grumbling and whining. I’ve practically made it an art form. The light goes away and I open the protest box that lives in the basement of my life. No, it used to live in the basement, now it lives on the top shelf of my brain, ready to spill out at the slightest provocation. I dream of living elsewhere, have announced my bold intentions to vacate to anyone who will listen. I’ve acted on my goal over and over but boomerang back with embarrassing predictability.
I seem to be karmically rooted to Oregon. Why didn’t I land in a warm place all those years ago, when I was fleeing from my crazy past? Why did I choose a rainforest instead of sunshine, white sandy beaches and palm trees?
A responsible person who is unhappy does something about it, so I set off to change my life. Twenty years ago, I was going to live in the four corners, which is an area that defines Utah, Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona. I packed my car, said goodbye to friends and was off, but the place didn’t feel right, so I came back. A few years later, I decided that Santa Cruz would do. I had a good-bye client special and took off, but when I arrived, there was too much traffic and it was… well, just too California, so I came back. I left for Mexico in 1995 giving myself a full month to see if that was my place. Everything I’d read about San Miguel de Allende sounded exciting and inviting. I was hopelessly sick from the water in five short days.
My latest leaving was for Hawaii. I made plans, told my daughter, Kristen, she could have my car and refused to schedule clients into the future. Kristen was unconvinced. “Okay Mom, I’ll believe it when I see it.” I was insulted. How could she doubt me? I told my friend Dicksie I was moving to Kauai in October. “Really Karen? I thought that was just something you talked about but never did.” Ouch!
Well, I’m not living in Hawaii and my daughter is not driving my car, if that tells you anything. This failed attempt to escape the dark and rain has become humiliating. My inner escape artist is obviously inept.
Determined to solve my predicament I contacted a business woman to help organize my teaching and healing schedules to include more travel. That sounded like a great idea. Don’t you think? I was up for it, but then she got sick and couldn’t meet and now I’m doing rewrites on a new book that is going to take most of the winter, so I’ve lost my motivation. What is a person supposed to do with a person like me? It’s really quite a quandary.