aww: september 13, 2013
I am no longer the warm open person I used to be.
I used to say, "I wear my heart on my sleeve."
I don't do that anymore.
For the most part I stay distant from forming close relationships with new people.
I don't have the same passion I once did...to reach out, to offer help to others.
Have I become calloused and cynical?
Or am I just dampened, doused one too many times to silence the embers that spark the fire?
As I sit on my back porch, this night of September 11, 2013, I hear crickets and tree frogs. A symphony of sound coming from our small spread of backyard woods. Woods that if I had the money I would clean up and plant bamboo and erect a yurt for my private space, away from my home where work of some sort or another always seems to be calling. Laundry, dishes, bills, scrubbing, dusting, vacuuming, organizing, sorting, placing. Little of which I do in much fashion the past 5 years.
I keep telling myself that I must get my home in order. Yet, I avoid it.
The task looms large.
The task reminds me that I am growing old.
The task will bring up all the unfinished projects I once started.
The task will resurrect the many different self-employed businesses in which I've dabbled...from multilevel marketing sales to preschool music to miniature art to pet sitting.
Some 15 years ago Susan, a fellow eclectic-homeschooling mom in Lunch Bunch Learners, the Greensboro homeschool group, stated to me that she was "a generalist." Like me, she wasn't an expert at anything but knew a little about lots of different things. At the time I thought, "Finally I have a label for what I am - a 'generalist.'"
When I get around to the monumental task of decluttering my home, I'll have to make decisions. Not general decisions, but specific. I'll have to form opinions about what to keep, where to put it, what to give away, what to recycle, what to trash. I doubt I will sell any of our stuff; I abhor having yard sales. I don't want to go through learning how to sell stuff online. Maybe I'm just lazy or maybe I'll change my mind from benefactor to salesperson; I don't know.
This dampening of my heart, this avoidance of having to feel, this loneliness that I have chosen - is that who I really am after all these years? If it is, can I accept that person as she is? The past me, was that really me or was that who I was supposed to be?
Today I searched online for any wildlife rehab facilities in the city where I live in North Carolina. I found one. Volunteers learn the how-to of wildlife rehab and keep rescues in their homes until the animals are ready again for the wild. "I'd like that," I thought.
Then my critic chimed in, "It'd just be another thing you'd do and then get tired of. You'd probably only last for one animal. Why commit to that? You need to get your home in order, remember?"