Starting Off the New Year

Greetings, Readers! Happy 2015 to you (I still have a few more days to wish you a Happy New Year, don’t I). I have to admit that I resonate a lot more with ancient culture wisdom traditions and beginning the “real” new year with the Spring Equinox, coming this year on March 20. I mean, we are still technically in the dead of winter, even if it is about 70 F / 21 C today in Northern Colorado. It’s a high altitude plains thing, these temperature swings. In another couple of weeks we could be back to 32 F / 0 C, or even colder. Just the way that Colorado rumbles.

Taken in the Parc des Buttes Chaumont, March 30, 2012

Taken in the Parc des Buttes Chaumont, Paris — March 30, 2012

Anyway, as I was saying, I appreciate the ancient wisdom of understanding a new year really begins with the sun moving into the sign of Aries, with the Spring Equinox, and with all the energy that sprouts in springtime. I happened to stumble across the above springtime photo in my Dropbox files today when looking for something else (I have not touched my dropbox files in months!). Such a pretty yellow flower. Although I am terrible at identifying flowers, Google reminds me this is indeed a forsythia. Forsythia bushes are all over the Parc des Buttes Chaumont and herald the emergence of spring.

I can’t wait for this springtime energy to arrive because, frankly, I feel frozen in my situation and need a thaw and flow of better circumstances to arrive.

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A story has as many versions…

A story has as many versions as it has readers. ~ John Steinbeck

A story has as many versions as it has readers. ~ John Steinbeck

Greetings, Readers.

I’m back at the public library, ten days since my last post, to fill out more job applications as no more interviews have been granted up to now. I just wrote this to a good friend:

I’m trying really hard not to give even a centimeter of space to desperation and panic, but of course it is a fact that those thoughts can be like flies I have to swat away and make sure they don’t come into my head. I feel like I am trying to swim in the ocean and my arms are getting really, really tired. I need the rescue boat (a job) to come and fish me out so I can get back to dry land and build my house. I really do not want to drown.

My mental flyswatter works better some days than others, and depending on how the weather is, sometimes I feel like an ultra-survivor. I am Piscine Molitor Patel in the boat with Richard Parker [ref.] and I know it’s all going to be just fine because my wits are with me.

But then there are the days where the flyswatter feels full of holes and the flies are extra thick, and I’ve fallen out of the boat, it’s storming, and I am choking on water.

Part of the changing landscape of my emotions and therefore how the journey is going is connected with the story that I believe about myself in any given moment. When I saw this quote from Steinbeck outside of the library the other day, I snapped a photo of it with my iPhone because I thought, “Well isn’t that true, Mr. Steinbeck. Well-played.”

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