I wish you all could see me right now.
I'm squished on the couch at Grace's house (the one she hasn't replaced yet) between my two fabulous big black dogs, one on either side of me, comfy and cozy and I am breathing for what feels like, quite honestly, the first time in over a month.
I want to acknowledge the outpouring of love that I've been getting since I wrote yesterday that I was leaving Santa Cruz. I want to also share that since I wrote yesterday that I was leaving Santa Cruz that I have spent a good many hours SOBBING. Not about leaving Santa Cruz, but because so many other things in my life have decided to turn themselves completely on their head.
That is not the reason I am at Grace's house, but I must again reiterate that there's something magical about Grace and her house. It is a refuge. Of course so is Gwendomama's house. I have found amazing refuge there, as well. I seem to be able to find refuge in most any house except my own these days. My own house haunts me. It is filled with so many reminders of what was, what was hoped for, what will never be, that I spend my days there forgetting to breathe. And when you forget to breathe, you eventually really do start to die inside.
I received amazing acupuncture today, returned things to IKEA that will not be going into the moldy cottage that I will not be living in and had the pleasure of visiting with my friend Naomi. All good things that should have given me reasons to smile.
Still, smiles are hard these days. Laughing is nearly impossible. And mostly, I just spend a lot of time wiping my nose with my sleeves while I sit in a puddle on the floor. There's lots of snot on my sleeves these days, but I figure I am doing my part to help the environment because I'm not using kleenex and thus no trees are dying and no bleach is polluting our waterways just because my husband decided he was done and I can't seem to get a grip. I'm glad that this whole divorce mess is not contributing to the destruction of more trees. My sleeves instead of trees. To those of you who might suggest a handkerchief, I've tried that, but I always seem to misplace them just when I need them most. Sleeves? Well, unless I'm running around naked, they always seem to be handy. And if I'm naked, well, snot on my arm just is snot not on my nose.
Now the truth of the matter is that what I really need is more nakedness, less sobbing, more laughter, less sorrow, more fun and to be able to stop throwing up. The day I can get through 24 hours without throwing up will be a good day. I'm hopeful that day is coming soon.
I know that I can't really leave Santa Cruz. I am Santa Cruz. And Santa Cruz is me. The essence of all that is Santa Cruz beats deep within my heart. Especially when I remember to breathe. But I can certainly go on a long and meandering road trip and see where that road might take me. The roaring of the road can be a very healing thing. Especially when you know you've got so many loving and caring souls who truly care just where you go.
