Yesterday I went for a job interview with a company that contracts with the federal government to provide call center services for various programs. By the end of the day, I had a new job!
It pays $2.30 more an hour than Petsmart and is full-time, with company paid benefits. Finally, some benefits! We've been without for 9 month, so far, and it is an insecure place to be. I start on the 2nd. I'm going to keep a foot in the door at Petsmart, at least for a little while, by working for a few hours on Saturdays. My new job is Monday through Friday and I got to pick my shift. We'll see how all this goes in the coming weeks.
This has boosted moral here and given us some hope for the coming months. Between my new job and whatever Cameron finds for part time work, we should be able to make ends meet through August with what's left of our savings. Cameron will be done with classes near the end of August, so we will be moving to wherever our new home is, then. Most students have a job waiting for them by the time they graduate.
As far as everything else goes, we're doing OK. The 4-legged beasts are happy and well. I do wish we had a yard for them to play in. We have a doggy door in one of our sliding doors that lets them out to the balcony, but we have quite a lot of stuff out there so there's not much play room. Allie's often sprawled out on the floor, on her back, in a patch of sunshine from one of our living room windows. Tuesday hangs out in the closet or under the bed when we're not home. She gets so scared when she hears noises outside. (This complex is much noisier than the one we were in, in Albuquerque.) JarJar, well, he's JarJar. He usually naps on our bed or in some corner of the living room. (Often he sits by the sink in the bathroom and watches himself in the mirror.)
Cameron's been doing exceptionally well with his classes. I'm quite proud of his transformation from one who is afraid to change the oil on his bike (when I first met him almost 4 years ago) to being able to rebuild and trouble-shoot bikes. Very cool! I'm not sure how much longer he will be in the general motorcycle classes, before he moves into the BMW-specific classes, but that will be an interesting change. I'm looking forward to seeing his further growth in that area and enjoying his increased confidence in his abilities. More cool stuff.
As for me, I'm just taking care of business. Keeping the household intact and doing my best to help us stay afloat. The new job has taken an incredible weight off my shoulders and that is huge. I'm still searching for meaning, but my faith has increased. I don't have a clear sense of what that means, exactly, but I don't feel so alone these days.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
Tonight I searched for a book that I was reminded about by someone close, but I couldn't find it. Instead I uncovered a couple of books that are interpretations of the Tao Te Ching; The Couple's Tao Te Ching, and The Sage's Tao Te Ching. They were purchased on 2 separate occasions from a little shop in Cambria, CA, during our many trips to the coast.
The first one, joined our lives a few weeks after Cameron and I had met. I used to randomly open the book daily and email the passage to him at work. So, I opened it to a page and found "A Field of Dreams":
The first one, joined our lives a few weeks after Cameron and I had met. I used to randomly open the book daily and email the passage to him at work. So, I opened it to a page and found "A Field of Dreams":
You do not exist to fulfill each other's dreams,
but to show each other the place
where these hopes are born.
Do not impose your dreams upon each other.
You must each follow the images
that arise within your own hearts.
But you can create for each other an open field
where dreams can grow and flourish.
~
Do not try to "tweek" or modify
the dreams of your beloved.
These are deeply personal
and must be treated with great respect.
Giving help and encouragement to each other
in the following of dreams
is good and proper.
But the dreams themselves are sacred
and must be given great respect.
but to show each other the place
where these hopes are born.
Do not impose your dreams upon each other.
You must each follow the images
that arise within your own hearts.
But you can create for each other an open field
where dreams can grow and flourish.
~
Do not try to "tweek" or modify
the dreams of your beloved.
These are deeply personal
and must be treated with great respect.
Giving help and encouragement to each other
in the following of dreams
is good and proper.
But the dreams themselves are sacred
and must be given great respect.
Another book I came across, "The Language of Positive Thinking", I did the same with it and found a passage about being free. Free of guilt, resentment, blame, fear, discouragement, and worry. It describes the search for this freedom as not for "timid souls. The road inside is cluttered with all sorts of baggage and illusions as well as erroneous beliefs that have come etched on your mind. Your key to freedom lies in your power to control your thoughts."
For me, this follows what I've embarked on, my search for spirituality, and it is also part of my search for my dreams. In the past I have denounced my dreams for the sake of pleasing others and found resentment and sadness. It got to the point where I couldn't find myself any more, let alone what my dreams were. By not respecting my own dreams and my own needs, I opened the door for others to do the same.
Thankfully, Cameron has always encouraged me to find myself and to be the best "me" that I can be. I guess I fell back into old habits and let myself fall by the wayside, getting lost somewhere along the road. Bit by bit I'm finding the stray pieces, like breadcrumbs along the path I've just come along. Retracing my steps, I hope to find where I wandered take a hard look at what was going on in my head at the time. Perhaps to avoid a similar mishap in the future.
For me, this follows what I've embarked on, my search for spirituality, and it is also part of my search for my dreams. In the past I have denounced my dreams for the sake of pleasing others and found resentment and sadness. It got to the point where I couldn't find myself any more, let alone what my dreams were. By not respecting my own dreams and my own needs, I opened the door for others to do the same.
Thankfully, Cameron has always encouraged me to find myself and to be the best "me" that I can be. I guess I fell back into old habits and let myself fall by the wayside, getting lost somewhere along the road. Bit by bit I'm finding the stray pieces, like breadcrumbs along the path I've just come along. Retracing my steps, I hope to find where I wandered take a hard look at what was going on in my head at the time. Perhaps to avoid a similar mishap in the future.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Searching for Faith and Finding Meaning
Last night was a terrible night, riddled with insomnia, night sweats, and insistent bouts of restless leg syndrome. I have been fairly free of this level of discomfort for almost a year, so when it came on, I wasn't prepared. In the past, expensive medications were always available to ease me back to a comfort level that allowed me to drift back off to dreamy destinations. Not so last night, perhaps tonight, as well.
Today, I felt beat up and my legs weak. I called in to work to see if my schedule could be switched with someone else, my manager said he'd take care of it. (Yes, the same one I mentioned earlier.) So I spent a good portion of the day trying to figure out my spiritual quandary by reading "Sermon on the Mount".
It's not exactly the kind of book you do in one day, but I don't always find the time to read, especially something that might be "good for me". Digging into the difficult text brought me some enlightenment, and some frustration. At times I felt like I should have a dictionary handy in order to figure out what the author was trying to say, and that distracts me from the point that I am trying to understand. (If you write a book or story for the masses, it needs to be of a vocabulary level that the masses will understand. Throwing "scholarly" words throughout the pages only separates those who will actually get the point you are trying to make. OK, climbing off my soapbox, I'll continue...)
Needless to say, it has given me some things to think about. I then proceeded to begin reading "Man's Search for Meaning", that has been recommended to me. I have only gotten about half way through it, but it comes out of a different direction as a means to understand what I feel so lacking.
I lament about my losses and needs; hunger for a "better" life, in a nicer place. I have accepted my job, my apartment, my financial situation as a "lot" that I have drawn. I have lost focus of the things that make up my "home"; my husband, our 4-legged beasties, faith in knowing that we can handle whatever comes our way, as a family. I remember writing in my blog, when Cameron was in the hospital, that I had found considerably more strength than I thought I could possibly muster. I knew that I would not be given any more than I could handle. I'm doing my best to rally that faith that it will all work out in time, that the world will not end, and that through all of this, I will learn more about myself.
Today, I felt beat up and my legs weak. I called in to work to see if my schedule could be switched with someone else, my manager said he'd take care of it. (Yes, the same one I mentioned earlier.) So I spent a good portion of the day trying to figure out my spiritual quandary by reading "Sermon on the Mount".
It's not exactly the kind of book you do in one day, but I don't always find the time to read, especially something that might be "good for me". Digging into the difficult text brought me some enlightenment, and some frustration. At times I felt like I should have a dictionary handy in order to figure out what the author was trying to say, and that distracts me from the point that I am trying to understand. (If you write a book or story for the masses, it needs to be of a vocabulary level that the masses will understand. Throwing "scholarly" words throughout the pages only separates those who will actually get the point you are trying to make. OK, climbing off my soapbox, I'll continue...)
Needless to say, it has given me some things to think about. I then proceeded to begin reading "Man's Search for Meaning", that has been recommended to me. I have only gotten about half way through it, but it comes out of a different direction as a means to understand what I feel so lacking.
I lament about my losses and needs; hunger for a "better" life, in a nicer place. I have accepted my job, my apartment, my financial situation as a "lot" that I have drawn. I have lost focus of the things that make up my "home"; my husband, our 4-legged beasties, faith in knowing that we can handle whatever comes our way, as a family. I remember writing in my blog, when Cameron was in the hospital, that I had found considerably more strength than I thought I could possibly muster. I knew that I would not be given any more than I could handle. I'm doing my best to rally that faith that it will all work out in time, that the world will not end, and that through all of this, I will learn more about myself.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
On Lost Faith and Finding the Road to Spirituality
It's been a tense and exhausting weekend. My manager at Petsmart is a jerk, plain and simple. He lacks people skills and doesn't seem to know about leading by example. It's made it difficult to put in the hours lately. I'm sending out resumes as fast as I can, but doing a physical follow-up is difficult until the car is fixed, which should be in the next couple of days.
As far as the car is concerned, one charge is getting me to and from work, barring any traffic snafus. One evening there was an accident and traffic slowed to a crawl for a couple of blocks. 4 blocks from home, the instrument panel dials stopped working and the lights dimmed. I crept it in the last block with very little power. I'll be happy to have a working alternator soon.
I guess it makes sense that as major issues clear up, other ones become apparent. I've been on edge a lot and I guess the whole thing came to a head last night, revealing a nasty case of PTSD. I had concerns about it almost a year ago, but was focusing on Cameron's well-being and all the stuff he was going through. I guess, now it's time to address my issues.
I have a lot of negativity raging inside me; mostly fear, loss, and anger. None of these things were allowed to be displayed during Cameron's lengthy healing process. At least that's what I thought would be best for him. Now it's exploding like some sort of nasty abscess and I'm trying to make sense of all the pieces.
Cameron and I used to talk about faith and spirituality. Not in a particular religious sense, but discussing various philosophies and how maintaining a positive energy flow was important to keeping positive things coming in our direction. He's voiced concerns about my lack of spiritual awareness these days. I have trouble finding hope and and find myself focusing on what is wrong with our situation, rather than what is right.
I think is was early in Cameron's recovery that my faith was finally snuffed out. Every day was a grind of fear and fatigue. Patience was put above all else, because that was what I needed most to get through each step back. So that was my mantra as I watched him try to do more than he should and as I took the verbal backlash as he swore against my concerns. I was in my own little hell sometimes and faith just wasn't to be found.
So, today we discussed my situation and how to remedy it, or at least to get me through it until we can get some professional assistance, after insurance. I need to find that positive self that I used to have. There are glimpses of it off and on, but to maintain it is difficult. Crying has become a frequent pasttime.
Meditation has been recommended, though I don't know how I can quiet the endless chatter inside my brain. I guess it's something learned. Cameron regularly reads Sermon on the Mount, by Emmet Fox, and has recommended that I try it. I guess it's all a start. I feel hesitant, though, perhaps even fearful of epening that part of me. I don't really know why, except that maybe the sad place I've been frequenting lately is so much easier to fall into.
Well, here goes...
Chapter 1...
As far as the car is concerned, one charge is getting me to and from work, barring any traffic snafus. One evening there was an accident and traffic slowed to a crawl for a couple of blocks. 4 blocks from home, the instrument panel dials stopped working and the lights dimmed. I crept it in the last block with very little power. I'll be happy to have a working alternator soon.
I guess it makes sense that as major issues clear up, other ones become apparent. I've been on edge a lot and I guess the whole thing came to a head last night, revealing a nasty case of PTSD. I had concerns about it almost a year ago, but was focusing on Cameron's well-being and all the stuff he was going through. I guess, now it's time to address my issues.
I have a lot of negativity raging inside me; mostly fear, loss, and anger. None of these things were allowed to be displayed during Cameron's lengthy healing process. At least that's what I thought would be best for him. Now it's exploding like some sort of nasty abscess and I'm trying to make sense of all the pieces.
Cameron and I used to talk about faith and spirituality. Not in a particular religious sense, but discussing various philosophies and how maintaining a positive energy flow was important to keeping positive things coming in our direction. He's voiced concerns about my lack of spiritual awareness these days. I have trouble finding hope and and find myself focusing on what is wrong with our situation, rather than what is right.
I think is was early in Cameron's recovery that my faith was finally snuffed out. Every day was a grind of fear and fatigue. Patience was put above all else, because that was what I needed most to get through each step back. So that was my mantra as I watched him try to do more than he should and as I took the verbal backlash as he swore against my concerns. I was in my own little hell sometimes and faith just wasn't to be found.
So, today we discussed my situation and how to remedy it, or at least to get me through it until we can get some professional assistance, after insurance. I need to find that positive self that I used to have. There are glimpses of it off and on, but to maintain it is difficult. Crying has become a frequent pasttime.
Meditation has been recommended, though I don't know how I can quiet the endless chatter inside my brain. I guess it's something learned. Cameron regularly reads Sermon on the Mount, by Emmet Fox, and has recommended that I try it. I guess it's all a start. I feel hesitant, though, perhaps even fearful of epening that part of me. I don't really know why, except that maybe the sad place I've been frequenting lately is so much easier to fall into.
Well, here goes...
Chapter 1...
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Seeing Things for What They Are
Since making the move to Phoenix, I've had a hard time maintaining a positive attitude about our situation. It's been a daily ritual to remind myself of why we're here and of the light at the end of the tunnel. Slipping and falling into depressive slump is an on-going peril that I sometimes have difficulty navigating around.
It's been hard. Employment has been tricky, especially since so many local establishments are closed or closing, creating more people who are looking for work. I'm thankful for the hours I'm getting at Petsmart, but even they have been cut during the belt-tightening process that's so pervasive here. I continue to apply for better paying positions, but so far, that hasn't produced any positive results. The further insult of transportation difficulties only made things worse.
Perhaps that tide is beginning to change. Last week, Cameron applied some of his new-found knowledge to my car. He learned that electrical problems can mimic others. So, he checked the battery, it was a goner. After replacing it, he found that it wasn't being charged, the alternator is bad. Well, that's cheaper to replace than the transmission, so as soon as the repair manual that I ordered arrives, we'll get to work on replacing it. The transmission is still a little shaky, but hopefully, this will keep me on the road at least another six months. For now, we charge the battery every night so I can drive to work and back.
Another positive note, it looks like Cameron will be returning to his old job at Oreck, repairing vacuum cleaners. That will help counter the constant leak from what is left from our retirement funds. I still need to find something full-time, or at least part-time with better pay than I'm getting now, but every added dollar helps.
One of the things that has suffered during this time is the online magazine. I haven't had much interest in maintaining it or working on the podcast. I'm trying to change that, so this week I started sprucing it up here and there and clearing the dark mush from my brain. It's work, but it's something that I need to do to try to normalize things again.
My writing has suffered, as well. It felt like I had lost part of me when my laptop was stolen. I had poured so much emotion into the files, so much pain, that I thought I was done having to feel or remember. It was incredibly disheartening to realize it was gone and I would have to start over. I'm trying to work on it again. It's taking a different life this time, and perhaps it's for the better. My first work was raw and full of hurt, and maybe that needed to pass so I could attend to the real story. I guess we'll see what comes of it.
A very wise man, who was my mentor and supervisor during my stint as a social worker, kept emphasizing the importance of the "process" of going from point A to point B, both in the physical and intellectual/emotional aspects of a project or plan. I've said it before, that the path we choose, whether it's rocky or smooth, is all part of the adventure or journey that we embarked on early in life. To be able to see past the haze and the potholes, to what is beyond their entrapment, is important.
Well, I've washed my glasses and gotten most of the smudges off. Perhaps I'll be able to see better now.
It's been hard. Employment has been tricky, especially since so many local establishments are closed or closing, creating more people who are looking for work. I'm thankful for the hours I'm getting at Petsmart, but even they have been cut during the belt-tightening process that's so pervasive here. I continue to apply for better paying positions, but so far, that hasn't produced any positive results. The further insult of transportation difficulties only made things worse.
Perhaps that tide is beginning to change. Last week, Cameron applied some of his new-found knowledge to my car. He learned that electrical problems can mimic others. So, he checked the battery, it was a goner. After replacing it, he found that it wasn't being charged, the alternator is bad. Well, that's cheaper to replace than the transmission, so as soon as the repair manual that I ordered arrives, we'll get to work on replacing it. The transmission is still a little shaky, but hopefully, this will keep me on the road at least another six months. For now, we charge the battery every night so I can drive to work and back.
Another positive note, it looks like Cameron will be returning to his old job at Oreck, repairing vacuum cleaners. That will help counter the constant leak from what is left from our retirement funds. I still need to find something full-time, or at least part-time with better pay than I'm getting now, but every added dollar helps.
One of the things that has suffered during this time is the online magazine. I haven't had much interest in maintaining it or working on the podcast. I'm trying to change that, so this week I started sprucing it up here and there and clearing the dark mush from my brain. It's work, but it's something that I need to do to try to normalize things again.
My writing has suffered, as well. It felt like I had lost part of me when my laptop was stolen. I had poured so much emotion into the files, so much pain, that I thought I was done having to feel or remember. It was incredibly disheartening to realize it was gone and I would have to start over. I'm trying to work on it again. It's taking a different life this time, and perhaps it's for the better. My first work was raw and full of hurt, and maybe that needed to pass so I could attend to the real story. I guess we'll see what comes of it.
A very wise man, who was my mentor and supervisor during my stint as a social worker, kept emphasizing the importance of the "process" of going from point A to point B, both in the physical and intellectual/emotional aspects of a project or plan. I've said it before, that the path we choose, whether it's rocky or smooth, is all part of the adventure or journey that we embarked on early in life. To be able to see past the haze and the potholes, to what is beyond their entrapment, is important.
Well, I've washed my glasses and gotten most of the smudges off. Perhaps I'll be able to see better now.
Gifts from Strangers
Well, OK, I didn't exactly get back to this the next day. Actually, I've been nursing along a very personal gift from my seat mate during the majority of my ride home.
I didn't catch his name, but it doesn't really matter. He reminded me of Matthew Broderick, with his boyish face, but he was 30 and had made some decisions in his life that he wasn't all that proud of. Welcome to the club.
He was traveling from Vancouver, BC, to stay with his parents, in Tuscon, AZ, for a while. Since flights were snarled at the airports, he opted for the Greyhound bus in anticipation that it would be able to get him there quicker and with less hassle. Boy was he wrong!
I had heard about the weather conditions in Portland from the gentleman in line with me at the Bakersfield station. Well, it wasn't any better any where else in the area and so, my fellow traveler ended up staying the night there, waiting for the roads to clear.
Not wanting to spend the night at the station, he figured he could get a better night's rest at a local motel. Was he ever wrong. The place was infested with roaches (he said he was afraid to turn the light off) and the other guests were very loud, thus, he got little sleep. This detour, also, cost him the majority of his US funds. In hindsight, he new it had been foolish to not have converted more cash to US dollars, but hindsight doesn't get you very far when you have several more days ahead of you to travel.
Thankfully, he met many generous people along the way who helped him out. One gentleman actually tried to drive him to a bank so he could exchange more money, but the banks weren't open. They left him back at the station with a bag of assorted candy that they had recently purchased, and wishes for better fortune. Others bought him meals at stops along the way, or just gave him some cash.
He was overwhelmed at the friendliness of strangers, as people in the US have a poor reputation, among Canadians, as being less than good samaritans.
All in all, his trip had taken him a total of 5 long days. He missed Christmas with his family, the initial reason for his travels, and spent it on a bus full of strangers, came down with a nasty virus 2 days into his trip (that's what he shared with me), and had very little sleep. But, he came away with a better understanding of human nature, and of himself, with new plans for his future. (He had a lot of time to ponder this during his adventure.) We talked about him writing about his travels and the people he met. It's something he hadn't done before, but so was the bus ride.
We parted at the Phoenix station, with a hug and best wishes for both of us.
These strangers, who gave me glimpses into their lives, and the helpful ones who guided me on my journey, especially the man with the 4 kids who sat behind me on the first leg of my travels and translated the announcements for me (they were made in Spanish as all but 3 of us on the bus were hispanic), left me with a piece of them to take with me. I have no names, only faces, but they are embedded in my memory, right along with the holiday visit with my family.
I didn't catch his name, but it doesn't really matter. He reminded me of Matthew Broderick, with his boyish face, but he was 30 and had made some decisions in his life that he wasn't all that proud of. Welcome to the club.
He was traveling from Vancouver, BC, to stay with his parents, in Tuscon, AZ, for a while. Since flights were snarled at the airports, he opted for the Greyhound bus in anticipation that it would be able to get him there quicker and with less hassle. Boy was he wrong!
I had heard about the weather conditions in Portland from the gentleman in line with me at the Bakersfield station. Well, it wasn't any better any where else in the area and so, my fellow traveler ended up staying the night there, waiting for the roads to clear.
Not wanting to spend the night at the station, he figured he could get a better night's rest at a local motel. Was he ever wrong. The place was infested with roaches (he said he was afraid to turn the light off) and the other guests were very loud, thus, he got little sleep. This detour, also, cost him the majority of his US funds. In hindsight, he new it had been foolish to not have converted more cash to US dollars, but hindsight doesn't get you very far when you have several more days ahead of you to travel.
Thankfully, he met many generous people along the way who helped him out. One gentleman actually tried to drive him to a bank so he could exchange more money, but the banks weren't open. They left him back at the station with a bag of assorted candy that they had recently purchased, and wishes for better fortune. Others bought him meals at stops along the way, or just gave him some cash.
He was overwhelmed at the friendliness of strangers, as people in the US have a poor reputation, among Canadians, as being less than good samaritans.
All in all, his trip had taken him a total of 5 long days. He missed Christmas with his family, the initial reason for his travels, and spent it on a bus full of strangers, came down with a nasty virus 2 days into his trip (that's what he shared with me), and had very little sleep. But, he came away with a better understanding of human nature, and of himself, with new plans for his future. (He had a lot of time to ponder this during his adventure.) We talked about him writing about his travels and the people he met. It's something he hadn't done before, but so was the bus ride.
We parted at the Phoenix station, with a hug and best wishes for both of us.
These strangers, who gave me glimpses into their lives, and the helpful ones who guided me on my journey, especially the man with the 4 kids who sat behind me on the first leg of my travels and translated the announcements for me (they were made in Spanish as all but 3 of us on the bus were hispanic), left me with a piece of them to take with me. I have no names, only faces, but they are embedded in my memory, right along with the holiday visit with my family.
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