I have things to let go of.  It’s ridiculous to keep the teaching things when I know I’m not going to teach any more.  (I still have a part of me that says maybe, if I can get a job teaching first grade, so I may let that part have its way for a bit longer.)

It’s like the pomegranate tree and the grandfather clock.  If this really is all there is, I’d better get busy living it.  I have all these things I’m still wearing around my neck.  The “career that failed” necklace and the “marriage that didn’t happen” necklace and the “I used to be skinny” necklace and a hundred others that I just wear because it’s habit.  The time has come to start taking some of those necklaces off.

Maybe the reason that I never seem to get the book written or the highlighter holder produced is that I’m so clogged up with old stuff that I don’t have room for any new stuff.   The thing that bothers me about that is that none of the old stuff ever worked out, so I’m still living a life made of things that didn’t work out.  I don’t want those things but I’m afraid to let go of them, and my refusal to let go of them is taking up all the room in my life that could be being used for things that do work.

I’m still resigned to my old habits because I think I’m stuck with them, but I’m really not.  I can change.  I made the decision yesterday to not use more credit I don’t have because I want a pomegranate tree, and explained to myself the difference between putting things off until some magical time in the future when circumstances will be right, and not doing something until I have the resources to do it.

Nothing I’ve ever had to have right this minute has ever made me happy.  I think a lot of those things happen because I deny myself everything, whether I need it or not, and then I go on an acquisition binge, much the same way that I go on diets no one could stick to and end up bingeing because I’m so terribly hungry.

I don’t know.  Baby step, baby steps.  Maybe it’s an age thing.  I figure I’ve got another forty years or so.  I sure would like them to be more satisfying than the last forty.

I still believe money is the answer to all my problems, and if my angels really do show up in 15 days with my ten million dollars, I plan to scream and jump up and down.  I have plans for that money, many of which will do good to more than me.  But if they don’t show up, my life is going to continue.  What do I want it to be?  And how much of what I want can be managed right here in this little trailer I just had to buy?  Quite a bit.  My beans, gourds and radishes are planted.  I’ve started a compost heap.  I don’t have to dream of a big garden “when”….  I can do that part right here.  But I also don’t have to do every bit of it right this second; it’s okay if some parts have to wait a little while, just as long as I’m not putting them off until that magical, mysterious somday.