Escaping Vs Abandoning

Full Moon Rising over Las Vegas

A few days ago it dawned on me quite suddenly that within six months time I would finally be leaving Las Vegas. By that time I will be 28 years old and will have spent nearly all my life (except for a brief stint as a toddler and a handful of vacations) in this city, born and raised and never having escaped. I was so struck by elation at this thought, I was brimming with tears.

To everyone that loves Las Vegas, bless you. I’m so happy that you are where you love to be (or will hopefully be here soon?).

But Las Vegas is not for me. Not the heat, the 4 inches of rain, the lack of community resources, the billboards of half nekked woman, the smoky casinos, the dry, dead surroundings. And the only green thing (an occasional grassy yard) is more of an insult to our drought than a source of comfort.

Oh, the possibilities! The things we will see and experience. The people we will meet! The exploring of communities and landscapes and hopefully, the realization of the perfect place for us. Living in a small space, downsizing, simplifying, letting go of our attachment to “stuff” in the meantime is all exciting, exhilarating, appreciated.

Overall, I am really, truly, overwhelmingly ecstatic to be moving.

Except for this moment right now.

In this moment right now, I’m really, truly, overwhelmed by fear and sadness.

It started when I saw this photo from A Sonoma Garden and I thought to myself how beautiful it was and how great the same grape arbor would look along the side of our house in the backyard. And then I realized we wouldn’t be here long enough to watch it grow.

And that’s when it hit me. I’m not afraid to leave Las Vegas. I’m not afraid to leave behind the family and friends we love.

I’m afraid to leave my home. *My* home. The place we’ve worked so hard on, were still working hard on and have now ceased work on. The garden that is still years away from what we dreamed it would be.

I’m letting go of the dream I had of creating this place into something wonderful – an oasis in the middle of barren suburbia - and although we will have the opportunity to start over, we’ll be starting ALL over. From square one. Not debt-free as we had planned. Not starting where we are now. We’re going backwards. And after selling much of what we own, we’ll be going there with almost nothing. Liberating, yes. But depending on the state of the economy and oil prices, perhaps having so little to our name is not such a good thing.

And then there is the environmental factor. Yes, we’ll be solar powered and running on waste veggie oil which emits 50% less emissions, but we’ll still be driving around the country like tourists, eco or not. We won’t be growing our food or buying in bulk. Will our smaller lifestyle be more or less taxing on the environment than how we live now?

Not to mention this leaves out moving away from our only place of familiarity and a system of support. I have no idea how to start over without the support of family. We will – for the first time in our lives - really and truly be on our own. And have I mentioned that Zeb and I are home-bodies, creatures of habit? We like to follow our routine, we like to retreat to quiet rooms to be alone, we like privacy. How will all of that work out in a 22 foot motorhome?

I want to tap into that excitement again right now. To remember how much we are broadening our horizons, how many more ideas we’ll walk away with and knowledge we’ll accumulate. To remember that we’ve never felt like Las Vegas was our home and this is our chance to find what we feel is missing.

I realize we’ll find a place we love, a home where we can do all this and more, a community that supports our ideals. I realize we’ll be making so many more friends as we travel and eventually settle back in.

But right now I’m overwhelmed. I didn’t expect to face these things for a few more years. But now it’s finally hitting me and we haven’t even started packing. Will I be able to do this? Or are we crazy to even consider it?

Plan of Action

It’s a rare moment Justin and I get the opportunity to talk. You know, really talk – about finances, plans, etc. The kind of talk best done out of ear shot of a easily stressed and environmentally-sensitive kiddo. Earlier this week, we plopped ourselves on the bed and really hashed things out.

This discussion came about as we had been looking at our yard and really, really, really wanting to do more – more perennials, more raised beds, water catchment and graywater usage, more investment into a home and garden we weren’t sure we would be able to afford or remain in when/if Justin’s work runs dry. Is it worth the investment? Should we plop more money in this yard, only to give it away come as early as next spring? But what if work holds out and we’re able to keep to the plan? What if we’re putting off the enjoyment of where we are, in case of something that doesn’t even happen? How do we plan for such unknown variables? And how do we live in the meantime?

We’ve sat stuck for several months, idling at this inevitable fork in our minds. I felt myself reaching for a solution; something that would give me permission to move in either direction. I don’t even care which way we travel, just give me a damn course already!!

Our conversation swirled around a few main topics: Is it a waste of time to invest anything else in this place? If, come December, Justin finds himself unemployed what do we want to do? And how? Are we saving enough money? I’ll spare you the details and share with you our conclusions.
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Navigating the Fork:

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Before we looked at anything else, we had to look at where we want to be and how we want to get there. We don’t know where we want to be but we know it’s not here. However, we’re very particular about moving. Neither of us wish to move hastily or go into debt again. So we made the choice that come what may, until we have the savings to support our original “Five Year Plan“, we’re not budging.

If Justin gets laid off we’ll do whatever possible to remain in this home while we work toward our financial goals. If staying in our home becomes impossible, we’ll continue to stay in Vegas where we have career connections and family support. We are not going to move out of Vegas until we can do so debt-free. If things remain at the current pace, this will be in 4-5 years. But we’re going to try to expedite that process (explained below).
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Investing in the Present:

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Once we decided we were going to do whatever possible to stay in our current home, the choice to invest more into our garden and home came easier. We still had to decided what to invest and how. Perennial fruit-bearing, insectary and nitrogen-fixing plants, as well as animals, more raised beds and water catchment/greywater storage and usage encompass our desires.

In regards to plants, we’ve decided to invest in nitrogen-building and insectary plants first. These will support our annuals and general landscape over the next year, thus saving us time and money. Come winter, we’ll be able to judge when or if to add fruit-bearing perennials (who’s benefit would be farther off) based on the local economy. Raised beds will be done using only free and salvaged materials, although the soil will likely be purchased. Animals for eggs or manure and rain and greywater catchment will save us money soon after their initial investment making it a worthwhile endeavor now.
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Investing in the Future:

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Then came the real financial discussion. Are we saving enough and what can we do to save more? What options do we have if Justin is laid off and what are our options now?

Two decisions were made. The first: I’m going back to work. As an independent massage therapist, I can make good money seeing only one or two clients a week. I love my work and if I’m careful about who I see (no more deep tissue work) I will be able to work without injury to my back. I saw my first client yesterday and it went very well. This decision brings up a lot of other thoughts; perhaps I’ll blog more about it later.

The second decision is to reconsider a new online venture. It’s been something I’ve been mulling over for quite some time, and although it is a small initial investment, it will require much more of my time and energy to get off the ground. But its potential of passive income (even if to the smallest degree) once it’s established is great and will be a huge asset to our goals. I’m not going to go into details just yet but if all goes according to plan, I will be getting started within the next week.

So there you have it! I have a definitive course and plan of action, as well as feel so much more secure knowing we will be staying here as long as we possibly can. Not all of it is ideal but it feels good and stable, not to mention wise. And I love that I no longer have to feel so torn about pouring my heart and soul into my garden!

How is everyone else weathering the current economy? Anyone else deciding on new courses or making new plans?

Uncomfortable Limbo

I’m in this place. A place beyond description, although I still try. It’s a feeling of being unsettled, unsure, dissatisfied and frustrated. It’s a low mood and a spiteful tone and a cranky outlook. I’m not sure where it originates, nor why. I feel a slight inclination toward believing it has something to do with a state of Not Knowing, a place of Wanting and Waiting and Impatience.

I’m ready for More. Either more right where I am or more somewhere else. But I don’t know how long I’ll be where I am or when we might be somewhere else. And the anticipation feels like  a bear wrestling within my bones, ready to bust out and tear me to shreds in the process. I want to do so much to this home and this garden, but it doesn’t feel right. I feel my intuition telling me to save my pennies for a sunnier day. And yet, waiting, hoping, wishing I knew what that day was, when it will arrive. I want to explode from all this conflict within me.

I want a plan; to know what to expect; to work toward something. But instead I feel stuck. Stagnant. Purposeless. For what is the purpose of sinking more money or energy into a house we could be out of in as little as six months. But what is the purpose of living here, uninspired and unhappy and not work toward making our arrangements as ideal as possible.

I flux between loving and hating this house.

There are days where it is my home and my heart breaks at the mere possibility of an unstable economy pushing us out. I hunker down and revel in its comfort. I enjoy it and I want to remain in it. I can’t imagine leaving the community we’ve built, the family we love, the friends we cherish.

Then there are days like today. Days when it feels like a trap. An unrelenting burden keeping us pinned down; like a beast sitting on my chest as I fight, powerlessly to get up. To breathe, even. It’s one thing to peacefully sit down. Quite another to be pushed to your knees. And as anyone forced to comply, I’m left in a fighting mood.

And here I’ve swung for several weeks, back and forth between determination to make this happen, making the best of it, growing where I’m currently planted; and feeling unsettled, out of control, anxious, uncertain and even depressed.

Justin said it best. “I’m ready to move.”

And yet, here I still sit, holding back emotion. Acquiescing to my circumstances. Trying to remain focused on what I can do, what brings me joy, what lifts this mood. Succeeding for a day or two. Failing for another. Back and forth between two places I don’t want to be.

This is harder than I imagined.

Poem: Homesick*

deep navy purple barely winks at me
from where it spans across this neon sea
glimpsing the wild in its silent retreat
as its edged with the paving of another dirty street
i’ve watched emptiness meander through this space
long forgotten silence is a long forgotten place
deaf to the notes within the song
failing to find where it can belong

the dance is missing from this town
its sad embrace just pulls me down

impatiently i wait to hear the chime
a chirping message telling me its time
while colored dreams and mighty plans sustain
pushing paths against the weathered grain
i watch the feet that carry me along
humming through the notes within the song
and watering the seeds that have been sown
i miss the things i’ve never really known

Copyright TheOrganicSister 2/27/09

*i wrote this a couple weeks ago but only just got around to posting it.

I have so much to do…

With Justin working overtime (seven 12′s for a couple more weeks), it’s up to me to get everything finished. But without him home as much as usual, I’m off kilter. I don’t sleep well, I have less motivation, I feel more “blah”. Seriously. I miss him. But I want him to come home to a haven – a place that is clean and stress-free, without a bunch of tasks waiting for him or a mess to look at. He deserves a place like that. So, despite the last week being a total funk for lack of my hubby, I’m working on getting it together this week. And really, I need to since so much needs to be finished this week.

So here we go. Another one of my To Do lists. And this one is gonna suck. If you don’t see me online much this week, this is why:

Outside:

  • Fix the two broken sprinkler lines (Yes, I broke them.)
  • Add the last of the soaker hose around the ash tree
  • Clean up the side of the house
  • Add perlite to the raised bed for drainage
  • Plant the broccoli and spinach starters

Inside:

  • Start more seeds
  • Clean up the secondhand armoire and bring it inside
  • Put away Christmas decorations and other attic-bound items
  • Put living room back in Pre-Christmas order, with its “new” armoire
  • Start working on organizing an art/craft room :D

Other:

  • Find someone to fix Zeb’s desktop (don’t ask)
  • Backup laptop (photos)
  • Plan out the entire planting schedule for the year
  • Pickup our other LoveSac from a friend and SELL IT ALREADY!!
  • Make a trip to the dump
  • Make a trip to the free mulch place for some free mulch (yay!)

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.

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