Archive for December, 2014


Posted in Uncategorized on December 19, 2014 by Queenie

There are times when it comes upon you that Change is on the horizon. And when Change is inevitable, (as it always is, whether we want to admit it or not), the best you can hope for is that some amount of Choice will be involved, more on the voluntary well thought out level than choices made in the midst of chaos or sorrow.

I came upon a lightbulb moment some time ago – one of those clarity things – that, ahem, “The Meaning of Life is, (wait for it), Choice.” The self help gurus will indeed preach that stuff is going to happen – all manner of stuff, and a goodly lot of it bad – and that it is up to our pitiful or powerful selves to make a choice about how we react and respond to whatever has dumped itself upon our unsuspecting heads.

Change is upon me. It’s circling, planning its attack, and perhaps it’s time for me to acknowledge that I can see the whites of its eyes, and not find myself gasping for breath with an arrow in my breast. I need to make a friend of Change, and not encounter it as an enemy, waiting to ambush me while I languish in blissful ignorance.

Among other sobering events, my precious mother, the Queen Mum, had a heart attack this summer. It’s been a while now – not that long, but long enough for the slap of it to wear off. I, of course, was 600 miles away, doing what I do, an art show, and deep in my own stuff of the moment. The details needn’t be recounted. Everyone lived. Neighbors, friends really, rallied to the call and got her to help. I was home the next evening, stark and spent, but there. It was an amazing combination of events, timing, and people available (and WANTING) to help, all coming together to deny her that ride to the Great Mystery. And Good, for none of us was, or still is, ready.

She will be 91 in a matter of days, and still a pistol. A wobbly pistol, but she can still shoot. I’m already well into Medicare and Social Security, and my spring chicken ingenue status card is long expired. Tick tock now what. I still feel youngish in some corner of my soul, but the soul is ageless. It’s our psyches and our bodies and our sheer will to fight through the bullshit that wear out. Somewhere in here, I’m still seventeen. But I think some of us are born old, worn out before we have a chance to laugh and love. Some seem born cursed – a fine example of Karma perhaps – for how could some good folks deserve so many two by fours to the head? Some are born to die young, having accomplished….what? And some seemingly purely evil creatures live long and prosper. What’s with that? Too much for us to understand, evidently.

All this pondering is getting me to the point of WHAT NEXT? Parts of what I do for a living, (sometimes that’s a more than generous phrase), are falling away, not working like they used to – sort of like my left hip. I may be overstepping the boundaries of my two blogs since a lot of this has to do with The Last Stand at the Slippery Slope, and trying to decide if there will be one. More whining about how much my beloved boonies are now becoming citified and untenable need not be rehashed here. Suffice it to say my solace and serenity on the home front is sorely compromised, and the lake cove, (where I find peace in the waters), has been gone for four years now. Sadly, I don’t believe it’s coming back….like my ingenue status.

So things are afoot. Change is here, or somewhere near, around a rock or a corner. What I don’t want it to be is between a rock and a hard place.

There’s a peace and maybe, more than maybe, some excitement in making a decision that’s made in good time. It harkens to the feeling of freedom when you finally move to let go of something that no longer works for you. Despite all good memories of how good things used to be, comes the time when you deal with the truth of it all and admit that it’s not likely to ever be that way again. Mights and Shoulds are poor things to bet on. I’m a firm believer in the the fact that holding on is far more difficult than letting go, at least in matters of the heart and even just life in general, when things have gone south. Holding on too long might just leave you with entrails decorating your space while you insist on giving too much energy to Hope, when Hope has left the building. In some cases, the horse is on life support, and time to let him go. Stop the beating of it, and yourself, however noble you believe the cause to be. When even Maybe fails you, step away. Let it Go.

Though lately I’m thinking of some particulars that need to be dropped from my life experience, the connections loom large. Letting Go of one large thing opens the space for other opportunities to walk in the door. It also opens a window of creativity to think differently.

I haven’t felt this way in a while. It’s time for some goodbyes. It’s time for some new directions. It’s time to let some things go. And no, I didn’t see the movie, and I don’t sing the song. This is MY story. It’s time to Let it Go, give a new way some energy, and then Let it Be. I always was a Beatles girl.