Where is my community? Where is my fellowship of artists and writers and free-spirited, enlightened individuals who won't look at me like I'm the crazy relative every time I open my mouth?
I'm having a hard time, a really hard time, trying to live in my ego space right now, with every crazy thing going on. I don't want to be alone, but when I look at my life, I realize I have always been alone--an outsider in my own family, the one who never fit in. Ironically that has not changed, but the abyss of separation seems to have grown larger. I look at my extended family and see more differences. And I am the one to not judge, to not notice the things that make us all live such vastly different lives. It's like I really do live on another planet. I guess that's okay, and it was one of the reasons I tried so hard to get away when I was so young.
On this day, I'm trying to rethink my own existence. Who am I? The age old question. I am a daughter and a sister. But I am also a mother and a wife, an individual struggling to just be herself. Sometimes I am an artist and occasionally I am a writer. Mostly I am just me. No apologies there. I don't fit in any box. I never have and I never will.
One day this week I woke up and thought "What a beautiful life I have here on my little farm with the birds singing outside and my children all healthy." The warm sun shined in through the kitchen window and I stared into the distance at the beautiful Wet Mountains and truly enjoyed a moment. I am thankful for that. I am grateful for the stars in the midnight blue sky, and the quiet that lives here with me in the country.
I may be a little odd to my family and some of my friends, but I wouldn't change any of it. I'm loving the farm adventure and I'm trying to be honest with myself in my own beliefs. I'm still on my spiritual journey, trying to know and master myself and my tired old Ego. That's the best I can do.
