Curtain Down

 . 

I am done.

Just got word that I was NOT chosen for the part-time, temporary Materials Handler position (i.e., book shelver) I applied for at the library.

I'm taking this as official proof that I am unemployable.

Monday, I'll go get my name on the subsidized housing waiting list.  If I'd done this when I first arrived in Lawrence, I'd be at the head of the list now.

I'm poor.

I'm not deflated or angry or frustrated. I'm just done. Ready to get off the job-hunt ferris wheel and redirect my focus toward learning how to live with what I have. There's actually some relief attached. The hunt was stressful and humiliating. I have become Mother Woods.

Any Port In A Storm? Not yet...

I want money because there are things I need and places I want to go that I cannot afford. So far, my focus has been on finding "a job" as a means of securing funds.

The report widely promulgated currently is that the job market is booming. There's lots of "work" and lots of employers are hiring and lots of people are finding jobs.

So my claim of "I can't find work" is viewed suspiciously by some.

I want money but I am not willing to do "anything" to get it.

I have rejected some offers and ideas because I've decided I am either unwilling or unable to --

work for $7 an hour or work 40 hours a week at a job I don't like or work for a company whose ethics are questionable or volunteer indefinitely in hopes of some day being hired or commute 45 minutes to and from a job that pays $10 an hour or break the law.

I hated the desperation and stress of job-hunting when I was younger. Now I hate it because the process favors employers rather than job seekers. It is a patently dehumanizing and unfair system and there seems to be no way and nowhere to file a grievance.

Maybe this bothers everybody as much as it bothers me but apparently it's the only game running.

Is there another way to get money?

The Great Mystery

Last night I dreamed I had meticulously packed for a destination. The journey would involve several stops but I didn't know when or where or for how long I would stop.

I put my bags in my brother's car. When we stopped I wasn't sure if this was a stop on my journey or a quick stop he needed to make on our way to perhaps the airport, perhaps the train depot. He left when I got out of the car but said he'd be back for me.

It was a season of celebration, parades in the street that reminded me of Mardi Gras but people were only mildly enjoying themselves. No cheering or laughter or applause. Sitting on the floor in the main room of a house where women and children lived, I examined colorful art by children. All around me people were speaking in a language I could not identify. I saw so much that I wanted to photograph but my camera and suitcase and cell phone were in my brother's car.

Day turned into night and then stretched toward light again. I wondered if my brother would ever return. I wondered if I'd missed my connection. Only my joy in the children's art felt true and familiar.

Be Like a Mirror

Every move since I left New Orleans has been at best ill-considered and most of the time a mistake.

Am I about to do it again?

With my most sincere Quit underway, I lay awake in my bedroom last night drenched in the smell of cigarette smoke wafting up from the apartment downstairs. One more evidence that I should never have moved to Lawrence, KS, I thought. I spent some minutes arranging a list of unfortunate coincidences and painful synchronicities since May 2017.

Meditation and piano students are my life-savers for now.

Valuable Feedback

A piano student recently told her mother:

Miss Alex helps me do things that I don't think I can do.

Truly amazing how without a syllabus or an explicitly expressed mission statement, this child has discerned a primary pillar of my objective as an arts educator. 

Not amazing how gratifying it is to hear her impression.

New Breath

I am back.
Where?

Today is the 7th day since I broke my 190-day smoke-free streak and
my third consecutive day meditating under the guidance of Sam Harris' Waking Up course and
the first day since May of last year that I've felt like engaging the world this way.

It's been a hard winter.  A hard year and a half in Lawrence, KS. A hard two-years-plus since that abomination was "elected" president.

I have carved out some space to breath in. No more Facebook. No more NPR. Daily meditation.

Things are feeling not so hard. 

Anybody Listening?

I'm back.

Sorta.