Since my last post:

1) I’m still allergic to the cat.
2) I’m still working for the Talent Agency but not for the Cafe because:
3) my cousin died,
4) my uncle died,
5) my friend died,
6) my dad had a heart attack,
7) all my money (the tiny pittance I had) was withdrawn and I had to borrow money to pay the rent,
8) I accidentally took a lot of street drugs at a party (I don’t do drugs).

Things got very surreal and every step was like wading through mud. Or quick drying concrete. Let’s not do this couple of months ever again… Except for the friendship garden… That bit is very, very nice. In my new place I have a garden, the first I’ve had since leaving home. Really, it’s a 6 by 6 yard, but I’m turning it into a garden. And my friends are helping: pansies, broadbeans, sweet peas, strawberries, daffodils, gardenia, day lilies and my own crappy cactus that refuses to die. Apparently, there is Chard on the way from friend and a goat from another. Knowing this friend, I have no idea if she might actually bring a goat!

So, anyway, the war with life rages on as I try to stay in the slip stream. Stupid bugger that I am, I prayed for change didn’t I? Called for Kali, such a fool I am… Here is a little bit of the book:

“In a curious twist… not everyone is falling apart. Some of us are. But we are loved and this love carries us through. Grief, not to be confused with depression takes time to heal. When we are ready to move on we do, of our own accord.

What do we grieve for? Those that have passed (total of four this year for me, plus one furry brother, unless someone else sneaks in another within the next 11 days), death of our career, ending of a relationship, financial worries (who of us isn’t grieving over the loss of our financial independence during these times), losing our children’s dependence on us, but worse, so much worse than all of these, is to lose our sense of self. How truly terrifying to wake up one morning and in place of certainty find only doubt.

How do we re-establish a sense of self on such unsteady ground? We dig. We dig what at first appears to be a grave and then we fill the hole, metaphorically with our old selves. We pour into the hole all that was once useful and joyful, but that now only brings us dread. We pour our lament, thick with snot and tears, like syrup into the foundations of our new selves. We release our putrid and outworn ideas into the slop and we bury it. We lay to rest that which no longer carries us through, knowing the only thing that we really need is love.

And yes, it’s true, on your quest to find love you look back and see the grave of your past. But don’t you know, that in time, that earth will settle and when you have done roaming you will return to find this is the best place to build a new sense of self, with a heart full of love. What am I saying? This is the natural order. Don’t fight it. You are going to die one way or another, so before you push yourself to a death you can’t come back from, give into the experience and reserve some energy for your rebirth.”

Let me tell you, that little piece of monologue was hard-earned. I’ll let you know when I’m eating bean stew with strawberries for afters.