Listen to the messages

Ah, man, it's just not right. I woke with a headache and tried to push it away , telling myself it was a sinus thing, or an eye thing...snow and bright sunshine, but not really wanting to listen to the voice that told me the things I had been looking forward to for days might not be what I expected. I did not want to hear it. Definitely did not, for today was the day I was going to see that house that might turn out to be our future homestead.

I don't think it is. I don't think it can be. It's just not right, and in fact, my mood got more dismal and sour the longer I stayed at said house in the woods. I felt trapped, like someone was trying to catch me in a giant butterfly net and force me into some beautiful insect habitat, complete with flowers and all the things a butterfly could want, but a cage none-the-less.

It was someone else's vision, and it is hard to overcome a dream of a hand built house created with so much love and personal toil, a house that could expand and be modified to fit me and my life, but a house that carries the ghosts of those who came before, and I'm not sure it is my place to require change in a space that was not created for me or my wild children.

It's just not right. And that makes me sigh in sadness, because I so wanted it to be, like a dream almost realized. But, if I ignore my gut feelings like I have so many times before and fall head first into a situation that is not good for anyone, I will be telling myself  "I told you so," even as I dig out of the negativity and try to fly free again. I can't go there, I'm afraid.

So, I will stay here, in this place and rethink my options, even as I stare at my high desert land waking up to spring and appreciate the beauty of the Junipers, the Pinon Pines, the sparse prairie grasses and even the cacti. I will watch the birds that have come to live on our land since we brought the flowers, the compost, and the gardens. I will appreciate all that we have accomplished in our two short years here and wait for the season to come into bloom. I will find joy in the rabbits hopping down the path, the quail bringing their babies out for a walk, and the blue sky. I am honored to live in the shadow of the Wet Mountains...a pristine wilderness landscape that greets me every single day.

Maybe this place is right, for right now anyway.