LIFE IN ARIZONA -Thoughts on Nothing 2

I am remarkable, I know I hold much spiritual potential. As I am today, a non-working (in the commercial sense – non- wage earner) individual, with no paying job to make me an outstanding whatever, nor a titled job bearer to proclaim my self-confidence, 

I now totally try my hand at becoming whole again, focusing on the importance of nourishing and honoring my body, soul and spirit through organic nutrition, essential oils, supplements, meditation and healing unconventional treatments. I am trying to feed the depths of the person that I am. 
The person I am, was only moderately connected to what I did in my jobs and/or my social life.

Only once I was a ‘nine- to- fiver', most of my other jobs have been unceremonious, I made my own hours as I went along, working around my children’s schedules when they were young. These were jobs I loved, mostly. But I definitely knew that what I did was NOT who I was. My own personal life always took precedence over whatever I did in a paying job. 

I can always develop a quiet and secret life of my own if I allow my imagination to reign, I am happy with ME as the only visitor. I feel in harmony by just being with myself, and appreciating the remarkable human that I am.
I never defined myself by what I did at work, even though I did enjoy the social aspects and routines of a more disciplined life.
‘Retirement’ and free-lancing from home can definitely be chaotic. When there’s order within myself, however, I go through my day in a controlled and systematic way, accomplishing the tasks that seem to pile up during daily living.

People think that I am sager now, that I possess wisdom, prudence and good judgment. I suppose I am more so than I was fifty years ago but in essence my spirit remains unchanged.

LIFE IN ARIZONA -Missing the Sea

It seems ironic to me, maybe even ardently wrong the way nature plays with us. I hear the coyotes’ merriment drifting over the jagged peaks of the Catalinas; I see the sleepy saguaros that rim the mesas as I listen to the wind performing in the freshly born leaves of the Arizona ash tree I planted in our yard. We’ve had a warmish January -- we even imagined spring just around the corner -- but as February approached, the weather turned into a mean winter blizzard outside.  The countryside took on a rather colorless sepia hue as a steel sky set in and a cold wet snow began falling, wilting new shrubbery and foliage from warmwr days.

The seasons will do - come and go - as they please, with no determined schedule in this part of the southwest; we simply inhabit the rugged areas that have now gone urbane. The native chollas, palo verdes, barrel cacti, yuccas and saguaros of bygone days have been dug out and re-planted elsewhere to make room for housing, roads and cars.

Nature is strong, omnipotent, and omnipresent.  I live in this desert with which I feel no rapport. The dry land profits from me. It takes my moisture, my softness, and my abundant reveries and indulgent memories of beaches past. Remaining in this desert, I will dry-up like an apple left out on the kitchen counter for a while.   

I cannot deny desert’s beauty; she’s a unique crystal, a balanced ecosystem of full sun, ragged mountains and sandy landscapes; pastel painted sunsets, vastly starry nights …

As I gaze into the future - down the road of my life – I fail to see new undertakings coming this way. The path ahead does not appear to be too long or easy anymore. I miss the sea.

The sea indulges my musings … it voices my truth.

Transplants from other parts tell me it may take up to five years to break through the culture schock and feel a bodage, a connection to the desert.