Waiting with Gratitude

My current location is the surgical waiting room of a local hospital where I wait while my man has a day-stay surgery that started four hours late.  We waited together for several hours in a prep room, he more impatient than I because the last food intake he had was nearly 15 hours ago.  I have done this surgical waiting routine more times than I want to admit.  We thought his surgery days were past after an unbelievably busy medical year in 2011, but here I sit again due to the unexpected and unwelcome health issue that popped up last week.  But, it is at times like this that I realize how fortunate we are - he has medical insurance unlike many others, this surgery is relatively minor compared to those I've seen today who are facing more worrisome procedures and I have family and friends who are praying and sending positive energy to us.  As with others, our relationship has its challenges and moments of glory and I sit here grateful for all we have experienced together.  Even in the dark times, when we held on by a thread, I knew we had a strong bond that kept us dreaming the same dreams.

Our relationship has been a series of challenges - some are common, some are unique.  Being from different cultures, we had to be open about sharing and experiencing one another's customs and habits.  Our cultural give-and-take has left us both better people.  I learned to love mate, an Argentine tea, and dulce de leche, a Latin American caramel-type spread and he learned to cook for a vegetarian, something he never dreamed he would do.

I was used to life in the country and he was accustomed to life in the fast-paced, crowded northeast, but we both adjusted to life in the small city where we reside.  We have many of the same cultural interests - plays, concerts, museums, bookstores, lectures - and here we found many events to keep us entertained and informed.  He has introduced me to foreign films from South and Central America, as well as tango and other Latin music, and he enjoys the bluegrass music of the south and has learned much about the history of Florida and developed a love of the artists who capture the lakes, springs, hammocks, beaches and wildlife of our state.

Our first year together included one of his daughters, my adopted daughter and, later, her brother.  Our blended family often had a rough time and by the end of the year, he and I were alone - good in some ways and sad in others.  Now my daughter and her two children are back with us - an adjustment that thrilled me, but was hard on him.  Coming from a large family and having several children of his own, he was relishing our life as a couple living without other family members and obligations, but he has made the changes necessary to allow me the joy of having my daughter and grandchildren with us. 

I am a person with few limits and he is one with many.  I tend to accept everyone and everything at face value and he has taught me to proceed with more caution, to be a bit more discerning.  He tends to hold back and observe, sometimes being more judgmental than I like.  I have taught him to be a little more open and accepting.  

We have cried together over deaths in our families and struggled through a variety of family, financial, legal and medical problems. We have shared old friends and made new ones.  We have watched neighbors move in and move out and houses be bought and sold.  After eight years, we have a history where we live.  

He took me to Manhattan and I took him to Mount Dora.  We both love the intensity and variety of the city, but the cold and the high living expenses limit us to yearly visits to our favorite metropolis.  Mount Dora, on the other had, is easily accessible and affordable and the weather, though very hot in the summer but no hotter than where we live now, is very agreeable the rest of the year.  The coffee shops, restaurants, museums, shops, theater, and parks of Mount Dora make it a culturally diverse town where we can find plenty to entertain, inspire and educate us.
    

There are days we don't like each other very much and days when we cannot imagine ever being apart.  Sometimes we talk a lot, sometimes not so much.  We get annoyed and irritated with one another and we laugh together and share the secrets that only the two of us know.  We read the newspaper together every morning, often read in bed at night and watch our favorite shows, Touch and Super Soul Sunday, together, sharing comments and observations.  On occasion, we don't want to be in the same room at the same time, but we never want to sleep without one another.  I know I am a better person because of him and I hope he feels the same. 

But most of all, I am grateful for the fun he brings into my life.  In the muddy darkness of a sad marriage, I had lost my sense of fun.  Really, I had even lost my memory of fun.  He gave that back to me.  The laughter, the jokes, the playful teasing.  And that is what I remember during these times of waiting.  The fun.  Life is supposed to have some light-hearted moments. In spite of the hard times, the disagreeable times, the head-banging, incomprehensible times, I relish those moments of fun that have filtered through our days together.  Perhaps those moments add up to less time than the difficult hours, but they are the moments that make this life worth living.

Footnote:  It is nearly 11 pm and I am bone tired after a long and very frustrating day.  After delayed surgery, hospital staff confusion, changed hospital rules about visitors, hospital construction that made getting from one place to another difficult, and some issues with residual effects of anesthesia, I am relieved that I was able to bring him home today.  His surgery went well, just everything else surrounding it that was a confused mess. Today was not fun, but having him snoring beside me is.   

Change in the Air

I have wanted to write for weeks now - longed to write - but there was no time.  I am still busy at work, more so than I usually am this time of year and I took on an extra one-time job that I thought would be quick and easy, but has evolved into something more complicated and time-consuming than I ever imagined.  I am watching my grandchildren even more than usual while my daughter is working some untypical hours for training at her job.  And, I have been sick, again, or still.  Bronchitis cleared up, allergies started, while allergies were still in full force, a cold commenced.  My energy and my time have been challenged on many levels.  I have longed for Mount Dora to the point that I dreamed about it one entire night this week.  Plans have been made to be there, but not soon enough for this weary woman.

I am feeling more optimistic - a little.  I need more hope and more time that is not filled with obligations.  I need to write more.  I need change.  I need to change.

It all starts with “me” needing to change.  I can hope for those around me to transform.  But, those are truly just wishes and I, or you, really have no power over others.   I can hope for life to take a turn for the better, but that will only happen if I make some effort or institute some changes to help that happen.

I have been thinking a great deal about changes I can make - maybe not big ones, but, at least, little ones.  Sometimes that is all it takes.  Not even changes that seem to relate to desired results, but just changes - small ones that change the energy in my environment.  It is amazing what a change in energy can do for your life.

I have neglected my gratitude journal - something I promised to do daily when I started this project.  My journal fell by the wayside when I was going through so much in December and January.  Overwhelment destroys gratitude.  One change I am making is to be more diligent about my gratitude journal - maybe not every day, but at least several times a week.

I was doing some guided meditations to help me sleep last year, but they became unnecessary when medications knocked me out every night during my various illnesses or when I was so exhausted that I nearly passed out as soon as I laid down.  To add meditation to my “change list”, I have signed up for Oprah’s & Deepak Choprah’s 21-Day Meditation Challenge.  Wish me luck!

The last few weekends I have set aside a few hours to work on my house (again) - straightening, cleaning, organizing, clearing.  My grandchildren are growing and need more room for themselves.  I have concentrated on creating that space for them, which means getting rid of unnecessary stuff that was filling our house.  The work is hard, especially when I am working a lot and still ill, but the results are satisfying.  The house and the energy within it are changing and change is what we need.

Change has to do with starting anew and although all of these activities are good,  they are not really changes - more like reinstatements.  All things I once did, then neglected to do and have now restarted.  What can I do that is truly new, truly different?  I am stumped, but still thinking about it.  It has to be something that does not require a regular schedule or too much time.

For some reason I get stuck - don’t we all?  Stagnant.  Dormant.  Sometimes those states of inertia are necessary.  Rather like a bear in hibernation.  Time out - down time.  A period of rest and healing.  My current stuck-ness does not feel much like rest or healing.   It is more of a busy stuck-ness - a moving-all-around-and-going-nowhere stuck-ness.  A time of too much, rather than too little.  But, it all boils down to the same thing:  either you are inert and going nowhere or you are running in circles and going nowhere.

I need changes that take me off the path of nowhere and on the road to somewhere.  

Just after writing the last sentence, I saw that an email had arrived that I was waiting for.  I put aside my blog writing and read the email.  Then, I saw my Daily Om message - www.dailyom.com - which I had net yet read.  I read the message called Defense Mechanisms and have set it aside as a topic I may want to cover in a future blog post.  Then, my eye caught the list of online classes offered my Daily Om - a list that is always at the end of each daily message, but which I had not noticed or read in a very long time.  One of the classes listed was “The Best Year of Your Life” presented by Debbie Ford.  I was intrigued and clicked on the link.  The class is one lesson for 52 weeks and I signed up for it.  Now that is a truly new change.

Here I Go Again

When I started the Manifesting Mount Dora project, I called it an experiment with the Law of Attraction.  As the months passed, I forgot about the "experiment" part.  My focus slipped from the process to the hoped-for result, a sure path to disappointment, sadness and regret.  Why did this happen?  Control.  I wanted to be in control, I felt I was in control and when that proved to be not true, I lost control.  

The Law of Attraction is not a way to control your future, but a method to attract the future you want - a method that some swear by and that some think is hocus-pocus.  I wanted, and still want to, believe in the Law of Attraction, but I must approach it with a control-free attitude and that is difficult for me to do.  More than once, by multiple people, I have been labeled a control freak.  Although I think my control issues are definitely less than is years past, I obviously have not eliminated them entirely.  

I receive a daily email call the Daily Om by Madisyn Taylor and on February 8th, the theme of the email was control - how apropos.  Here is the first paragraph of that email essay:

The answer to control is practicing surrender.

Trying to maintain control in this life is a bit like trying to maintain control on a roller coaster. The ride has its own logic and is going to go its own way, regardless of how tightly you grip the bar. There is a thrill and a power in simply surrendering to the ride and fully feeling the ups and downs of it, letting the curves take you rather than fighting them. When you fight the ride, resisting what’s happening at every turn, your whole being becomes tense and anxiety is your close companion. When you go with the ride, accepting what you cannot control, freedom and joy will inevitably arise. 

I hate roller coasters!  Why? The lack of control, of course. I am the one gripping the bar so hard my knuckles turn white.  I barely breathe.  I am so anxious, I cannot even scream.  At this moment, I feel like I may hyperventilate just thinking about being on a speeding ride where I have not control over the velocity or the destination and no way to make the darn thing stop.  No wonder I was not able to "enjoy the ride" during the last ten months of my Law of Attraction experiment. I fooled myself into thinking my actions were controlling, and thereby creating, my future. 

It is hard to wrap my mind around the idea that you can work toward attracting something without actually being in control of the end result.  Can't say that I completely understand the concept either. That is why my Manifesting Mount Dora project was an experiment.  

As I grade the experience of the last ten months, I surprise myself by giving it an 8.  Overall, the experience was enjoyable.  The challenges were difficult, but I learned and grew from them.  I believe I developed spiritually.  And all of that in spite of not achieving my goal. 

My most recent lesson is just this - Manifesting Mount Dora is an experiment, as is life.  You try something, it works or doesn't work.  More often, it doesn't.  So, you adjust your approach and try again.  There is no failure, just lessons. You don't give up, you just regroup and readjust. So, here I go again.  

Chaos and Dancing Stars

Fact about me: in the gray cold of winter, I cannot recall the golden warmth of summer.  I am one of those people who is mired in my current condition, feeling as though it were always so.

Well, at least that is true when it comes to negative conditions.  I was always cold, always sad, always sick, always broke, always lonely, always tired.  If I am thirsty, the glass is always half empty.  No doubt, this is caused by a depressive-type personality.  I believe I was born with some kind of gene that makes me lean to the dark side.  My natural mom, who died when I was two months old, experienced, or so I gleaned from the stories I was told, anxiety and depression to the point of seeking professional treatment.  Since she died when I was so young, my own experiences with depression were not learned from her and I never knew others in my childhood world who were plagued with similar emotional disorders, so I am left to assume there is a genetic reason for my easy fall into hopelessness.  With the exception of the last few years of my marriage, these downward spirals rarely last long, and have never hampered my ability to work and deal with everyday life.  I just get blue.  And that is where I have been since mid-November.  After several sad and worrisome occurrences, I became stuck in a deep, dark funk.

In my last few posts I documented some of the happenings in my life that swept me from the hopeful world I was inhabiting.  I limped through the holidays feeling sad, tired and overwhelmed.  I greeted January, my busiest work time of the year, with no energy and worked long hours with no enthusiasm.  By mid-month, I succumbed to a bad cold.  Severe congestion and uncontrollable coughing zapped what was left of my strength and interrupted my sleep.  Not being able to take time off to rest and get well, I kept moving forward through days that seemed to last weeks.

While I was struggling with my declining health, my 14 year-old dog Winnie came down with upper respiratory and sinus infections, resulting in a constant bloody nasal discharge.  My big, affectionate protector was unbearably weak, looking at me with sad eyes that begged for relief.  A massive antibiotic treatment failed to help her and she steadily worsened during one very long night, leaving my vet to believe her infections were caused by cancerous conditions.  With no hope for my gentle giant to get better especially considering her age, my man and I made the sad, but compassionate, decision to end her suffering.  Unable to stop my flow of tears, I took the day off work and buried my dear old friend.  Hours spent crying just worsened my condition and my cold degraded to the bronchitis from which I am still trying to recover.

January was a bad month.  And, yet, in spite of the work, the illness, the loss of my dog, I ended the month feeling a little more hopeful than how I started the new year.  I cannot explain why.  Perhaps, it is the ever returning encouragement of spring.  An unusually warm January brought about an explosion of flowers, leaves and green grass fooling us into believing that winter had passed.  But even now, when the unseasonable heat has given way to more typical winter temperatures, when I am back to covering my more delicate plants and wrapping the outside faucets to protect them from freezing, I still feel like the world and I have recovered from the dark sadness of winter.

It is now as I lift my head above the clouds of despair that I can honestly see my tendency to give up when I am feeling tired and overwhelmed.  I went through some rough, sad times last year and, overall, I believe I did well.  But, when I become physically tired to the point that I can no longer find a way to rest, I lose my resolve to stay positive and upbeat.  The answer is, obviously, to not get so rundown that I cannot get up again.  Easier written than done.

Life can be so demanding.  Work needs to be done, people need to be cared for, problems need to solved, accidents happen, people and pets die, things stop working, illness attacks.  All this stuff happens on no one’s schedule.  We try and try, but we cannot schedule life.  There are days without enough hours.  There are nights without sleep.  And, those are the times that sink me.  I know this, but can I prevent being capsized by the unexpected?  I think all the junk of life has a cumulative effect, like a boat with a small leak.  Just a little water onboard, then a little more, after awhile the water is ankle deep, then knee deep and then, too late, the ship is going down.

I thought age would make me stronger, but it hasn’t.  Perhaps a little wiser, but definitely not stronger.  I may be better at distinguishing the little annoyances from the bigger problems, but I don’t know that I am any better at solving the dilemmas that sucker punch me in the gut.

I’ve noticed that when life gets difficult and I get tired, confusion sets in.  My house gets out of order, nothing can be found on my desk, my purse is a black hole, my car looks like a homeless camp.  Everything gets out-of-hand.  There is not enough time or energy to do anything about the chaos, so the confusion worsens.  Places that should be my refuge fill me with guilt.  I am there now.  I have been working a great deal, much has been happening, I have been physically ill and weary, and my life feels like a jigsaw puzzle with most of the pieces missing.  What time I have is spent keeping my clients organized while my own life feels misplaced, disorganized and bewildering.  And it is in the state of confusion that I came upon this quote which gave me hope:

One must have chaos in oneself in order to give birth to a dancing star:   Friedrich Nietzsche

Should that be true, there is great hope for me and on that I am relying until something better comes along.

The Days Ahead

The holidays have come and gone.  I am relieved in some ways.  The holidays forced a cheerfulness that was not heartfelt for me.  I grew tired of trying to be "on" when I really wanted to be "off".  Hiding was a temptation that I had to resist.

After Christmas Day, my man and I spent three days in Mount Dora.  Usually I am excited with anticipation before one of our trips there, but this one felt more like an obligation.  Even the short drive there seemed long and tiring.  At first, being in our favorite town made me feel mostly sad - sad that we are no closer to living there, sad that life seems to be conspiring against my desire to be there.  But, as always, Mount Dora worked its charm on me and the sadness melted to a gentle pleasure.  I was able to rest between our many walks and a feeling of renewal began to grow.  We reconnected with friends there, shopped a little, ate some fabulous food and met new people.  There is a house not far from where we stay that has fascinated me for some time now.  It is not a particularly pretty house, although it has its charms, and it is not what one would call outstanding in any way, but it "spoke to me" and I don't know why.  When I first noticed the house it appeared to uninhabited although I could see furniture through the glass entry door.  There were no signs indicating anyone had been actively living there in a while and yet the house was kept up.  I wondered if the owners are what we Floridians call "snow birds" - people who live up north in the summer and then come to Florida for the winter.  On one visit to Mount Dora, I saw an older, ratty car in the drive that did not have the appearance of a vehicle that would belong to someone owning the home.  Last year I began seeing a newer and nicer automobile in the drive, but still saw no actual people and nothing had changed in the house's appearance.  As usual, we took our little dog with us on our end-of-the-year trip to Mount Dora, but one morning just the two of us were walking back to our cottage after breakfasting at Cody's on 4th when we encountered an older gentleman walking with a graying beagle.  The beagle greeted us excitedly and while we took turns petting him, we chatted with his owner.  Turns out the beagle was a rescue dog that came to live with the man just two weeks earlier.  We expressed regret that our dog was back at the cottage because we were sure the two canines of similar size would have quickly become friends.  Later that day, my man and I were walking with our dog and walked past "my" house and there at the glass doorway, barking vigorously, was the same beagle we'd met earlier!  Soon his owner appeared, waved to us, leashed his dog and came to greet us.  The meeting of the two dogs did not go as we had thought.  The beagle aggressively declared his ownership of his new home and new companion and our peaceful dog, who I believe is the Dalai Lama of dogs, was terribly hurt emotionally, not physically.  I am sure that had they met on the streets the result would have been much more cordial, but our new canine friend felt the understandable need to protect his territory.  I shared my fascination with his home to the man and he was kind enough and friendly enough to tell me the history of his home, which was built in the latter 1800's, and his own personal story of ownership and even gave me a tour of his abode.  With the exception of the dog confrontation, the unexpected afternoon meeting was a pure joy.

After the chance meeting of the mystery home's owner, I started thinking about how we never really know what unexpected occurrence may change the course of a day.  I went to Mount Dora never expecting to meet the owner of the house of my fascination, much less expecting to be granted a tour of the home.  When strolling back from breakfast that morning we never expected that the man we met walking with the beagle was the owner of the house or that we would encounter them later the same day, giving me the opportunity to tour his home and find out more about it.  Having experienced something so unexpected, I began wondering if my manifestation of Mount Dora might also emerge from some unforeseen meeting or happening.  For a few days I felt a sense of hope.

The hope did not last long.  I returned home to all the responsibilities, problems and long hours of work that eat up the hours of my days during this busy time of year.  Very quickly my pleasant memories of Mount Dora melted like a snowflake in Florida and I again felt tired and sad.  But, in the midst of my resignation little bits of hope keep showing up.  None of them was  profound enough to completely give me back my hopeful enthusiasm, but collectively they are pushing me into a better emotional place.

Two were these quotes that I received in my daily emails from Gratefulness.org:

WORD FOR THE DAY Monday, Dec. 17 Most of us look at our ideals, say how far we are from them, and get depressed. But it is heroic simply to say, "Here are my ideals," state them before the world, and then spend your life trying to live up to them. Keshavan Nair New Dimensions Radio interview

WORD FOR THE DAY Sunday, Jan. 13 Your success and happiness lie in you....Resolve to keep happy, and your joy and you shall form an invincible host against difficulties. Helen Keller

The hours I have spent with my friend who was in the automobile accident have also shown me that we can heal, physically and emotionally, and, I hope, spiritually, if we just give ourselves some time.

I recently came across an animal card reading that Shenna Benarte did for me in the fall.  Much of what I am experiencing now was foretold during that reading.  She warned me of working too hard (not much I can do about that), that many emotional issues would surface and need attention (oh, yeah), that I need to journal more (I have been journaling less), that I would be consumed with worrying and wondering and that my reaction should be to stand back and shore up my strength (I have been more weak than strong), that the months ahead would be filled with running around and going crazy (so true), that the drama I would be experiencing was a mirror to what was happening internally and that I need to slow down and breathe consciously whenever I am feeling overwhelmed (that is exactly when I forget to slow down and breathe), that I need to work spiritually on my emotional issues (have been very disconnected spiritually), that I need to be more open and less literal in my translation of what is happening to and around me, and, the most important part of the reading, was the raven "magic" card that I drew which means I can create whatever I want.  That is the part of need to remember.  I was amazed when I came across my notes of that reading.  It happened not long ago, but I had forgotten about all the warnings and encouragement of the cards. Now I feel more accepting that the rough times I am experiencing are a process.  I don't LIKE the process, but it is inevitable and, I hope, will push me closer to where I want to be.    

So here I am.  Still tired, often overwhelmed, sometimes sad, occasionally defeated, but I am seeing little bits of light in what often seems like a deep darkness.  I am sometimes depressed, but I am not in a depression.  My life is good overall and my days, although often long and irritating, are also filled with smiles, laughter, love, music and sunshine. Just the fact that I am writing this post is progress!  The long month of January is not even half gone and I know that I will continue to feel bombarded until I am able to slow down a little, but the days ahead do not seem as dark as they did yesterday.

Connections

I haven't written in a long time - not here, not anywhere else.  I am still struggling to reconnect with my Manifesting Mount Dora project, but, more than that, life events have interrupted what may have been called "normal".

My man's youngest sibling, a sister, passed away last week after being in a coma for more than a week.  Her  condition and subsequent passing were a shock and his family is still reeling from the loss.

The same day we learned of his sister's condition, one of my dearest friends was hit head-on by a much larger vehicle on the interstate.  Fortunately, she had no life-threatening injuries and no damage to her head, spine, face, neck or internal organs.  However, her body is a jigsaw of breaks, sprains, dislocations and lacerations.  Three operations later, her parts and pieces are reconnected and beginning the healing process, but her recovery will be long and challenging.

These two sad events reminded me how we are all interconnected.  I was not in a coma, I did not die, I was not in an auto accident, I did not go through surgery, but still I was affected by each of these events.  I did not physically feel the pain, but I endured it on an emotional and mental level and I feel the exhaustion of knowing that someone you love is hurting and of the smothering effect of empathy and concern.

Here, the night before Christmas, I feel very disconnected from the holiday hoopla.  I am going through the motions for my grandchildren and my daughter, not feeling the anticipation that normally grows at this time of December.  This year has been so unexpected - sometimes exciting, sad, inspiring and disappointing; often challenging, confusing and discouraging.  Many times I was so hopeful and encouraged and other times I cried for understanding and hope.  Right now, as this year winds to a close, I am taking stock of what I am thinking and feeling.  Weariness is the word that first comes to mind.  I am very tired and no hours of sleep ease the exhaustion.  I have a strong sense of resignation, as though nothing I can do will make a difference.  Intellectually, I don't know if that is true, but that is how I FEEL.  January starts my busiest work time of the year and no matter how deep I delve internally, I cannot find a well of energy big enough to tackle the tasks that come my way at the start of every year.

There is much for which I am grateful. I and my immediate family are relatively healthy.  We have a comfortable home, food on the table and the comforts of modern life.  I have work and a steady income.  My grandchildren fill my life with laughter and love.  My daughter fills me with pride.  My man still makes me laugh and warms our home with song and music.  I know I am blessed.  And, yet I am also disappointed in a deep way I cannot explain in words and I feel guilty and ashamed of this disappointment.

I volunteer at and am on the board of directors for a feminist bookstore.  That store, the two women who own it, the staff, and the patrons feed my soul.  For more than a month, due to family and work responsibilities and all these unexpected events, I have not been able to work at the store or even spend time there.  The store closed last Saturday, temporarily, in preparation of reopening in a different location.  I was excited about the move and all the wonderful changes that come along with it, but I have missed out on the last few weeks at the current location. Friday evening I carved out a couple of hours to go to the bookstore and there my soul was fed.  I shopped the great moving sales, then sunk into a chair and talked to Erica, one of the store owners, who made me feel missed and appreciated.  We talked about everything and about nothing.  It was wonderful.  I relaxed in a way I haven't in several weeks.  I felt a sense of reconnecting with something that had been hiding in a small, dark corner and that is when I wanted to write again.

When I started this blog in March, I thought that by the end of the year I would be closer to manifesting Mount Dora - even if just a little closer - and on this 24th day of December I feel further away that I did in March.  I see clearly than I am still needed here.  My daughter and grandchildren are entrenched in life in our town and I don't see them being ready for a move any time soon.  I also know that I am needed for my injured friend and her partner as the long healing and rehabilitation period starts.  I want to be of assistance in any way I can to make this difficult journey a little easier for them.  And, I can understand that those and other reasons may be why I am not making progress toward the new life I want to create and I am okay with the fact that I am needed right here, right now.  My question is, why almost one year ago, was I given what seemed to be a very clear vision of a life in Mount Dora?  Why was that passion born in me if there is no hope of it becoming reality any time in the near future?  Was I given one more unattainable desire just so I could experience more disappointment?

As I see my friend's life suddenly and unexpectedly changed forever due to an accident she could not avoid, I am even more aware of the fragility of life and that we have no promise of a tomorrow or of a tomorrow that even slightly resembles today.  How many more days do I have to live or how many days do I have to live in a condition even similar to the one I enjoy now?  The life I envisioned in Mount Dora was a life with me as I am now.  Perhaps I could get there 10, 15 or 20 years from now, but that would not be the life that I am visualizing now because I will certainly not be the person I am now.  My vision of life in Mount Dora most definitely includes the man that shares my life now and, with his age being several years in advance of mine, I know that the delay of my manifestation means that he could very well not be present to share it with me or may not be in good enough health to truly enjoy the attainment of a dream we have both nurtured.

As usual, or maybe even more than usual, I have no answers.  I am just a woman writing a blog about - about what?  I am not even sure how to answer that.  Is it still about Manifesting Mount Dora?  Was it ever Manifesting Mount Dora?  Was it about what I want or about who I am or about who I want to be?  I cannot even think that abstractly right now.  I am ending 2012 more confused that I started and I have no idea what to expect or, if I dare, hope for in 2013.

Appreciation

I am overwhelmed by all the wonderful words of encouragement that I received after my last two rather "down" posts.  I appreciate everyone who commented and who contacted me.

I know my last two posts were depressing and reeked of defeat and surrender, but I don't apologize for what I wrote because it was true to how I felt and still feel.  I do, however, apologize if my words made anyone else feel defeated or hopeless - that was never my intent.  I am just trying to write as honestly as I can about my experiences during this Manifesting Mount Dora project.  My experiences - good or bad - are MY experiences, not yours.  My experiences may be stemming from who-knows-what from years ago or even karma from a past life, if that is possible.  Perhaps, I am just not very good at manifesting or I am too old or too tired to be engaged so deeply in manifesting.  Maybe what I wanted to manifest was not right for me, maybe the timing was wrong.  I  hope any of you who are also in the midst of a manifesting project find great success and I beg you not to be discouraged by my experiences.  In fact, I hope you will prove that you can manifest anything you want.  How happy I would be to know that someone who read this blog was inspired to start their own manifesting project and reached great success with it.

My feelings have not changed much since my last post, although I have a stronger sense of acceptance.  I still feel this project is either dead or, at least, dormant, which does not necessarily mean I will stop writing this blog, although I may write less often.  Even a death is a process, so I am not quite through with this project yet.  I also do not dismiss the chance of a rebirth - like a phoenix from the ashes.  Right now, I don't know, and I really can't even think about, how it could possibly come back to life.  Someone commented that she believed I was reaching my "tipping point" and that I would still experience success.  Thank you, Christine, for that encouragement and I hope your statement proves to be true.

In spite of the sadness I am left with now, I know, without a doubt, that I am blessed.  I have a wonderful family, a decent business that may not be my passion but certainly is interesting and rewarding in its own way, many true friends, fairly good health, a comfortable home in a nice neighborhood, many books to read, the wonderful town of Mount Dora to visit and a host of other blessings.  I may be down, but I am not ungrateful.  I still love and appreciate the laughter of my grandchildren and their unfettered hugs and kisses; conversations with my daughter, usually late at night, and her radiant smile; the warm touch of my man and the laughter he brings into my life; my friends who support and love me no matter what; the wagging tales of my dogs and the loud greetings from my cat; the work that pays the bills and gives me satisfaction; long walks; trips to New Jersey, New York City and Mount Dora; books and more books to read; movies that make me feel warm and happy; and so much more.  I did not start the Manifesting Mount Dora project because I was unhappy or dissatisfied - I started it because I wanted something a little more and as an experiment to see if I could manifest something big without "making" it happen.

Unfortunately, as we grow older there are fewer years, and especially good years, left for the realization of a dream.  During the past eight years of my "new life", I've had other dreams, ones that I was not so focused on, but ones that did fill my imagination for prolonged periods of time, and those did not come to realization either. I deeply feel the passing of time now and I know that eight years is a small portion of 58 years, but they are a huge portion of this later stage of my life.  I also know my energy is not what it was even eight years ago and perhaps I would no longer even be able to physically participate in the dreams I once had.  Fifty-eight is not old and I don't feel like I am ready for a nursing home, but I do feel different than I did even a year ago.  That is hard for me to admit, but it is true.

My man told me I am needed by many.  That has been true all my life.  I've always been "taking care" of others - human and animal - personal and professional.  The new life I imagined in Mount Dora interested me, in part, because I hoped to concentrate a little more on what I want to do, not on what needs to be done.  But, I guess what I want to do is not what I am supposed to be doing.  Fortunately, what I am doing, has rewards.

I don't have answers.  I am just here, living one day at a time, and trying very hard to not think about what I have spent so much time thinking about during the last eight months.