Deep Thoughts
I have had a lot of deep thoughts lately. Usually I keep them to myself but I thought these deserved an entry in the blog.
It is always apparent that material things and money mean a lot to some people. They even base whether you're worthy of being their friend on if you have "things" and "money" or if you're just average or poor. I have not ever really cared about those things. For me it's all about the person, not what they have or what they can do for me. Maybe this is my New England background. Maybe it's the values my parents instilled in me. In any case if you value my friendship, instead of what I have, that's what I'm about.
I have almost nothing. I live in one room in a friend's house. Had it not been for that friend I would be back in New Hampshire living with my mother. He took me in when I had nowhere to go. He has always been a good friend. I consider him my west coast brother. I don't live paycheck to paycheck (even though sometimes it's very close!) and that's because he charges me reasonable rent. He helps me when I need it no matter how small or big. He doesn't care that I don't own a house or that I don't have a big bank account or that I can't afford to eat at expensive restaurants all the time. He loves me for being me. If I had a million dollars our friendship wouldn't change. I am acceptable as I am, just managing to get by financially. It would be nice to have a bit more money but I can be happy without it. I have a job, a place to live and many blessings. I never forget to count those blessings every day.
But I am rich in so many things that count TO ME. I have true friends who have been there for me through many terrible things, including in the last year when some times made me want to give up and die. There are things that went on inside me that I never talk about. But I haven't given up. I have great true friends. I am rich in so many ways. I am incredibly happy at how I am talented enough to make nice things by knitting and crocheting, even if they're little things like washcloths. They keep my hands busy and my heart light.
I can still write poetry even though I haven't for a while. I'm doing a good job at my job and helping people who need help. I am writing articles for a few newsletters that allow me to share my knowledge and experience. That is sometimes a big struggle but very rewarding personally. I hope that once more before I die I have something published. Just for the sense of accomplishment that I managed to do it. Last I knew my mother still had the newspaper posting from when I had my first poem published. They never said anything, just cut it out and put it up in the cellar in the spot where you'd see it as soon as you rounded the corner on the stairs. A spot of honor. Still makes me cry to think about how that spoke volumes without words.
Living in one room is so hard. But perhaps emotionally I am no longer able to live alone. I enjoy having people to talk with if I am so inclined. I only have dinner alone once or twice a week instead of every night. I have a dog who just adores me and protects me and lets me hug him and ruffle his fur. I'd have never believed it when Max was a puppy. But he and I have a special bond. I am the only female in his life. He protects me and makes me feel loved. Me. Me who has never been a dog person, especially a German Shepherd. Maybe one day Ruger and I will make our peace. I hope so.
I have had a lot of deep thoughts lately. About friends. Family. Dreams that never come true. Small surprises and happinesses. I guess these are the things that cross our minds when our time is short. And let's face it, more than half my life is gone. I'd be willing to bet it's more like 75% that's gone, maybe more. There will be no time for deep thoughts when I've died. Just, hopefully, answers. In the meantime I am trying to come up with a few answers of my own. And still figuring out the questions.
It is always apparent that material things and money mean a lot to some people. They even base whether you're worthy of being their friend on if you have "things" and "money" or if you're just average or poor. I have not ever really cared about those things. For me it's all about the person, not what they have or what they can do for me. Maybe this is my New England background. Maybe it's the values my parents instilled in me. In any case if you value my friendship, instead of what I have, that's what I'm about.
I have almost nothing. I live in one room in a friend's house. Had it not been for that friend I would be back in New Hampshire living with my mother. He took me in when I had nowhere to go. He has always been a good friend. I consider him my west coast brother. I don't live paycheck to paycheck (even though sometimes it's very close!) and that's because he charges me reasonable rent. He helps me when I need it no matter how small or big. He doesn't care that I don't own a house or that I don't have a big bank account or that I can't afford to eat at expensive restaurants all the time. He loves me for being me. If I had a million dollars our friendship wouldn't change. I am acceptable as I am, just managing to get by financially. It would be nice to have a bit more money but I can be happy without it. I have a job, a place to live and many blessings. I never forget to count those blessings every day.
But I am rich in so many things that count TO ME. I have true friends who have been there for me through many terrible things, including in the last year when some times made me want to give up and die. There are things that went on inside me that I never talk about. But I haven't given up. I have great true friends. I am rich in so many ways. I am incredibly happy at how I am talented enough to make nice things by knitting and crocheting, even if they're little things like washcloths. They keep my hands busy and my heart light.
I can still write poetry even though I haven't for a while. I'm doing a good job at my job and helping people who need help. I am writing articles for a few newsletters that allow me to share my knowledge and experience. That is sometimes a big struggle but very rewarding personally. I hope that once more before I die I have something published. Just for the sense of accomplishment that I managed to do it. Last I knew my mother still had the newspaper posting from when I had my first poem published. They never said anything, just cut it out and put it up in the cellar in the spot where you'd see it as soon as you rounded the corner on the stairs. A spot of honor. Still makes me cry to think about how that spoke volumes without words.
Living in one room is so hard. But perhaps emotionally I am no longer able to live alone. I enjoy having people to talk with if I am so inclined. I only have dinner alone once or twice a week instead of every night. I have a dog who just adores me and protects me and lets me hug him and ruffle his fur. I'd have never believed it when Max was a puppy. But he and I have a special bond. I am the only female in his life. He protects me and makes me feel loved. Me. Me who has never been a dog person, especially a German Shepherd. Maybe one day Ruger and I will make our peace. I hope so.
I have had a lot of deep thoughts lately. About friends. Family. Dreams that never come true. Small surprises and happinesses. I guess these are the things that cross our minds when our time is short. And let's face it, more than half my life is gone. I'd be willing to bet it's more like 75% that's gone, maybe more. There will be no time for deep thoughts when I've died. Just, hopefully, answers. In the meantime I am trying to come up with a few answers of my own. And still figuring out the questions.
posted by The Mutant Penguin Herself @ 9:36 AM
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