It’s time for some clarification for those of you who are not in my immediate circle, as the name of my blog ‘Homeless Mountain’ might not seem to apply to me.
Sigh and yes indeed, it most certainly does.
Alright, but surely she has money, because how else does she manage?
She has exactly $22 right now and this is more than usual. She manages one day at a time, one moment at a time. She (I) is doing her best to shift this, but the seemingly eternal puzzle is ‘How to move about and ‘do’, in order to create income, when one is without any in the first place?’ As this has been my life for approximately 229 weeks, I have encountered many who have said, ‘But surely you can….’. Walking any walk reveals more about its truth than standing on the outside, watching.
So how does she live? How does she eat? How does she have roofs where cats are flying about and blossoms wave outside the window? How does she drive? How does she fly to New York? How does she do anything but rummage through garbage cans for food?
I’m going to digress here. Seventeen years ago I was attacked in Central Park and I was beaten severely. As a result I had a series of surgeries and half of my colon removed. When I was in the hospital, I was told that I would need to have a colostomy, and would probably never be able to eat my food and have it travel the ‘normal’ path. I refused to give permission for this procedure and have figured out how and what to eat all of these years, breaking all of the ‘rules’, with some distress, but my body and I are in close communication and we are well.
Rummaging through others’ garbage and succumbing to the expected ‘next step’ is not in my internal vocabulary. When we were evicted from the blue house by the sea, we had been spiraling down the rabbit hole for awhile. Our film deals had not come through, and our income had dried up as Norman got arthritis and could not hold his carpentry tools and I was not licensed to counsel in California. We put every ounce of imagination and strength into keeping our boat afloat and plunged into debt in the process. By the time we were forced to walk away we were burned out and penniless. We (now divorced, but continuing to share this journey) still have moments where we feel at a loss. Deep despair at times. But I will say now, what I’ve said all along, someone had to walk this walk that would talk about it. And, my destiny is my stories. I have completed four feature scripts and am working on three new ones. I have completed a tv series and am writing my second one. I have written a series of children’s books and am writing an adult one. I cannot stop; these stories want and need to be told. I am beginning to meet people who can take these to the next step; getting to this place, of by-passing the guard dogs, has been a journey in itself! One day, we will meet the people who will recognize what we have and there will be a pop through. I know this.
So. Norman rarely has a roof, as he is Obie’s (the golden retriever) official caretaker. Therefore Norman and Obie live in the car…which is gone. We now rent a car weekly, cheaply, and earn the dollars to pay for this, as we do to eat and bake our cookies, by doing odd jobs. We often do not have the money that we need in a moment and borrow from friends, paying it back when the next job or cookie payment comes through.
I have roofs because I house and pet sit. The word has spread throughout the land, that I take good care of four-legged beloveds and treasures in the home, and so I move from sit to sit, and often have access to a car….but at times there is a lag in between when I sleep on a friend’s couch, sometimes for months.
How did I fly to New York and run around so happily? My daughter’s frequent flyer miles…and the generosity of friends….to support me in what was believed to be a transition, which is now aborted. Moving to New York is on hold as the circumstances have changed on the other end for it to be affordable. I have been back in LA for one month now and though my disappointment was real, I have surrendered. Obie and I walk every evening down to the end of a boardwalk on the Santa Monica beach. We look out to sea together, we talk to God, we hear His whispers in the wind, and we hold the moment, loving it and each other.
I live in faith and trust and knowing.