When in Louisiana, eat at the locals do, right? We made our way down to Mudbug Madness this weekend. Zeb wouldn’t even consider trying it, but Justin and I did. I won’t say crawfish are bad, but I do have two preferences of my food: 1) That it not be so much damn work and 2) That it not stare at me while I’m trying to eat it.
Justin’s also learned the importance of washing the Cajun seasonings off his hands before using the restroom. Ahem.
An alternate title for this post could also be Lonely in Louisiana. It’s beautiful here but I’m seriously missing having a tribe of families to connect with. Our cell phones don’t work here and our internet is limited. We are about an hour from Shreveport and most of our neighbors are retired. There is one family (the friends of Justin that he came to work with) and while they are great, there isn’t much of a deep connection.
We thought it would be rough here but we also thought it would be worthwhile. Justin was promised work at a decent wage, but that turned out to be…well, a blatant lie. >:(
And his trying to hustle other work is leaving him tired and distracted during the few hours he’s home and we’re all feeling the disconnection. I keep asking him why we’re here and if this is fitting within our focus?
I certainly feel like I’m losing my focus. I feel disconnected being here and have a hard time centering myself. But I think this has also taught me something about myself: As highly sensitive as I am to too much stimulation, I thrive best when I’m connecting with people in ways deeper than many are accustomed to. I need that intellectual connection to feel whole. It fills me and allows me to give unconditionally. It’s my Love Language.
Justin’s Love Language is all about physical connection. He’s not a talker and struggles to meet that need of mine. And when he’s tired and I’m feeling close to desperate with loneliness, it’s even harder. It creates a cycle within us of disconnection.
I can’t say if Justin is losing his focus while being here. I have to assume that he is here for a reason, learning this lesson of personal value and figuring out exactly what he needs and wants. And even though I think we’re wasting our time, I try to trust that perhaps he needs this contrast of what we don’t want (endless hours of doing something we don’t love and feeling lousy about it) in order to finally know what we do.
I’m ready to leave behind this lifestyle of ascertainment behind us. I don’t care about making a living just for the purpose of making a living. I want to make a life.
But I’m not sure he is there yet. He’s struggling again with feeling as if he “has to provide”, even though what he has to provide is actually much less than his perceptions. I don’t think he understands that our first desire is to simply have him with us, connected, feeling whole and joyful. He’s not that right now and it’s driving us all mad.
I asked him what he would do if he could do anything and his answer was almost instantaneous: He wants to race motorcycles. But as soon as I said okay, he seemed to stall. :sigh: I wish he was a steady blogger so I could occasionally get inside his mind.
Needless to say, I’m ready to leave Louisiana. I want to head south actually. I want to connect with some people in New Orleans and Baton Rouge and I want to see how the Gulf oil spill is affecting things down there.
I want to move onto other things. But I also wonder if we’re here for something that I’m missing. And maybe to sit with this discomfort and learn to connect through the disconnection is what we truly need.
I'm Tara Wagner, life coach and creator of the Digging Deep process, where I coach women out of survival mode to recreate their lives and families.
being out of your comfort zone can be hard. the south can be trying. if you do come more south….southeast texas (beaumont area) i would be happy to show you around. keep your chin up. you will find the right path.
I think we have been bit by the same MEH bug. I’ve been feeling the lonely here… Not feeling very trusting, and not willing to leave home much. Just counting the days until summer is here, and wishing the dishes would do themselves. This cycle is also perpetuated further by Travis being on DayShifts, which is the enemy of our family’s natural ebb and flow.
Sometimes you just need to be still and listen. I love this picture of Zeb-fantastic!
First off, I’m with Zeb on the crawfish.
Second, I hope you find a better place (both physically and emotionally/mentally) soon. It sounds like where you are is just draining all of you.
Wishing you the best.
Every place has it’s lessons and value. And boy oh boy do I know what you are talking about! How many times did Cary and I have that discussion about making a living vs making a life?! Men do take their ‘provider’ role very seriously.
Perhaps the reduced internet and phone access, and more available time, will give you the chance to discover something new or in a new way that you may not have done otherwise.
This too, shall pass.
Well, it’s gotta be an opportunity in some way, even if it is just a learning one.
I know what you mean about needing a deeper, intellectual connection. Sometimes when I go online to get that, and there’s a lull in the blogosphere, I’m like, “Helloooo….where is everybody?? I need someone to talk to!!”
Hope you get to a more enjoyable place soon.
Oh my gravy, was I there aaaaaalll of the past 2 weeks in Portland and Seattle!!! I don’t understand it, because it was the part of the trip that I was looking most forward to. I TOTALLY hear you…I had more than one hissy fit, and I was thinking all the time…”there are people who would kill to be able to travel freely like this…what’s up with me?” All I could think was…”I want to go home.” Of course, we are now 7 weeks into a car/tent living situation, and that’s alot of what drives me nuts…but, the internal turmoil is deeper. I felt lost and completely untethered and alone there…and, it’s where I’ve always thought I would fit best…find the most kindred spirits. Not. the. case. We drove out of Seattle this morning, and about an hour out, I felt my whole mood lift. I don’t know if it was rain induced, or what, but my psyche did NOT like being there. But, you know what?…Louisiana does the same thing to me. I don’t know where you stand on the spiritual spectrum…but, I told Brandon as we left, that I think as far as my innermost spirit, that there was something there that oppressed it. Who knows…maybe I’m just a drama queen:) Hang in there…we’re with you, sister:)
my darling, New Orleans is the friendliest place I’ve ever been and believe me everyone loves to talk there! It’s too hot to do much else……..chin up my friend and please don’t think all of Louisiana is a lonely place
OH, and make sure you try a muffelata sandwich at the little grocery store on Decatur Street in the french quarter! yummmmmmmmmmmm
I’ve lived in the south many years and often feel a disconnectedness with the society around me. Intellectual conversation is a pearl I search for each day as I slog through the mundane, prejudice, judgmental, uneducated, and sometimes just plain mean barrage of words floating around me each day. I’ve almost completed what I came here to do and then I’ll be moving along.
I wish I had the anecdote to your pain mama. I am not a RVer and can’t provide wisdom rooted in experience. I can tell you my thoughts and what I see from an outside perspective. Though the road provides freedom and spontaneity, it lacks some of the best things that make life amazing (for me). My home is a great source of pride and comfort… cooking detailed recipes, jarring organic fresh picked berries, crafting, relaxing, visiting with loved one, some of the great joys of my life. My job, as a high school English teacher, may at times be overwhelming and exhausting, but it’s also a blessing. I LOVE my work and I LOVE to work, I love the students, I love busting my bum and having summers off. Finally, I am grateful for the proximity to my family and friends, who are always available to share time and life with. I could not let these things go for a life on the road. Though there is a quiet gypsy inside me that surfaced during college and while on tour with jambands, I never had it in me to make a move permanent, to satisfy my aching desire to live amongst mountains, in an uber-progressive crunchy town… so I vaca in VT and live vicariously through blogs such as yours.
Pardon my frankness, but maybe the road isn’t for you? Maybe this is a great adventure you take, a time to explore for a place to land sooner than later (I know that is a goal of yours), and a chance to connect with your immediate family. Maybe you need to change your focus and stop trying to make the road work for you and just see if it does. Maybe having a landing spot in mind will ease your mind. Knowing you’ll be back to that stability might free you up to enjoy today.
I hope your find the answers you’re looking for. Have a beautiful day.
sorry that you’re not having such great times right now. I can feel it in your words – there’s a sparkle, an energy that was fizzing right out of the page when you were at the farm and after that, which just hasn’t been there for the last few posts.
I really feel for you – like Justin, Mike just isn’t a talker, and he just doesn’t do talking about feelings, emotions, where we are, that kind of thing, it’s just painfully uncomfortable for him to do, and clearly (although he does try) hideously boring for him to listen to – fortunately for me I have great family and lovely friends who fill that need for me, but I can imagine that it would be hard for us to cope without me having them – much as we love each other, and part of what I love about him is that he does give me space, doesn’t probe my moods (because sometimes I just don’t want to share until I’m ready), I know I need to look elsewhere to be filled up in that way. Hope that you are able to move on soon and find a tribe to connect with and that you can both find ways to find what really matters to you, and in a way that makes both of you full and centered.
perhaps you are in this darkness as a respite before coming into more light? … a chance for deep quiet to recharge again?…
and that creature staring out at me first in the morning?!? well, just darn scary – can not fathom eating one! brave of u and Justin
Thanks for all the words. So much wisdom here.
Thankfully, Justin seems to be shifting, noticing his value and understanding where we are vs where we want to be. We’re all just finding that this spot isn’t meeting anyone’s needs and remembering that we have the freedom to go. He told me last night that if this last job he bid doesn’t hire him by the weekend, we’ll be moving on. [Insert huge sigh of relief here.]
@Autumn Tao, first, never apologize for an intelligent comment and a deeper question.
That’s what it’s about around here.
As for whether the road is for us or not, we don’t know and don’t expect to know for some time but we do feel pulled to it more and more. We’ve let go of all preconceived notions and are living as unplanned as possible, allowing it to unfurl without our micro-managing it (a first for me, at least). I do know we have felt more connected and at peace, as well as passionate and excited for life since being on the road. There are things we miss but for the most part those things can be found out here, too. We’ve found everything we need so far and it was only upon settling in this current stop without those things to be found that I/we began to feel unhappy.
No, it’s unlikely we’ll do this forever, since when do we do anything forever? But the idea of settling down anytime soon is not a happy thought for any of us, either. So, we’re following our hearts and intuition until it guides us in another direction.
I’m definitely with you on the second food rule. Anything that stares at me (I refer to it as “anything that still has a face”) is straight out. Here in Georgia they have crawfish on a lot of buffets and my husband *loves* to terrorize me with them. I think they are creepy looking and refuse to eat them… even though I am a meat eater.
My husband and I are so tired of these ‘fake’ job offers that we don’t get excited about ANY job prospects until the paycheck has gone through the bank… its just too risky. I am sorry that you feel so lonely.. I go through that a lot here in Georgia because I don’t really fit in with anyone. We’d *love* to travel but we’ve currently got a lot of issues tying us to this area… someday in the future we’ll definitely be on the road!!
Thank you for taking the time to respond back. If your hearts belong on the road, you’ll find you way. Thanks for being so honest and sharing a part of your soul on this blog; it’s a pleasure to read.
Glad to see a post from you. I’ve been thinking about you a lot this week and I don’t even *really* know you!! But, I’ve been thinking something just feels a little less inspired, like you’ve been huddling in and working through something. Thanks for sharing with us and I really hope you find something. Why don’t you see if there are any meetup groups near you that you’d be interested in joining up with just during the rest of your time there? Connection with others is necessary to life, I think and if your retired neighbors aren’t into telling you fun stories of their youth then maybe you just need to find some folks. Sounds like a small area. Maybe there’s a diner or ice cream shop or even movie rental place with outside tables you can go to and put out the intent to connect. Or, email us!!
Hope you all get to feeling better soon. Maybe tonight when Justin gets home ya’ll can pop some corn and watch a flick on hulu or Netflix or something.
Hey! I’m in Shreveport & run a women’s group. Link is above in website. We have a lot of fun & it will give you some support as you try to figure out what you’re doing here. Much love! April
Hi there! I randomly just came across your blog via checking out links from several other blogs that I follow–I’m sure you know how that goes. I haven’t done that in a long time, but maybe I was supposed to discover your page?
Ironically, I’m an Oregonian who has been living in Louisiana not too far south of where you are/were for about a year now. And I can understand the difficulty of being here when you’re used to something so incredibly different. No real farmer’s markets, big box stores, no real organized community activities (although the festivals are amazing!), and a general lack of sustainability. Coming from Oregon, the first several months here were difficult, and I’ve had to adjust and compromise in numerous ways to my surroundings and to my new marriage. (Ironically, I truthfully didn’t know that styrofoam was still in existence until I got here….) Somehow in the last several months I’ve really come to appreciate being here and am able to see the beauty in the surroundings, but it definitely took time to get to this place emotionally, spiritually, and mentally.
One place that I absolutely love, while it is about an hour’s drive for me, is Natchitoches. Good food, actual coffee shops, history, and at least once a month there is a community event of some sort down by the water front. And a great opportunity for a potential lesson!
New Orleans is definitely a wonderful place to be, but there are so many fun and interesting little sites to see along the way also. Keep your eyes peeled for the various festivals and live music. Explore the waterways and plantations. And feel free to drop me a line at my blog or at the email that I think should be listed for you to see. Having just found your blog I’m not entirely sure how long you intend to be here on this stop, etc. But regardless I hope for the best!!
Blessings on you three!
((HUGS))
Oh my goodness gracious–those crawfish were enough to make me almost gag! HA! I try so, so, so incredibly hard to be open-minded in terms of cuisine, but man–there is just some stuff that my tummy wants NO part of. :p What an experience! If anything, the photos were worth it, I’m sure.
My dear, you are well on your way to not just living to make a living, but making a life–look at you go. Everything takes time and patience, but one thing’s for sure–you’re already leaps and bounds ahead of the crowd. Be proud of yourself. You’re one hell of a woman.
I’m living in Louisiana right now and I feel kind of displaced… like there’s no room for me here. There’s a strong undercurrent of “sustainable” ideas brewing. I’ve found it, but it’s hidden in the older, retired generation and all seems to get lost in rhetoric rather than action. I just can’t seem to get through to anyone other than my own little family, and even that is tough sometimes. I feel so isolated.
I’m from Virginia. I can’t say it’s much better there, either, or I never would have left I suppose. I’m just kind of desperate to get out of the loneliness. I’ve found some solace in nature and on our little farm. I think now is the time for me to work on myself, so the quiet is good for that, but I’m really yearning for community.
This is kind of rambling… but anyway, I can definitely sympathize with you here.
Where as you are experiencing things you may not be experiencing in your home in LV, you are managing a tough time just like you would anywhere. Learning how to get through these times is a transitional period in which toleration will prove resourceful.
Being still allows us to get through the chaos.
And sucking head and squeezing tales should be given at LEAST one more chance.
Great Post!!! Sometimes it is good to have quiet…to listen to what you need to do in the coming season of your life. I understand the struggle with what to do and when….We don’t have a lot of money and well I am not one of those people that really need it…it doesn’t make you happy. I like to enjoy being together and doing things together:) My husband works and I home school our teenage daughters we have enough and enough is all we need.
Finding our purpose….My husband has wondered if you could make money doing something you love? He loves organic gardening….he works at a post house…..editing T.V. commercials…..We know one day he will work in the garden full time but for money who knows?
Renee