Yes, it was a good idea to take a walk with my husband and dogs this morning, however I missed my morning writing.  It is the best way to start the day for me.  By the time this many hours in the day have passed, I have moved through many spaces.  I like the purity of the morning.  I write what’s there to write.  I write what jumps out from the day before.  I write what I need to say – and what I need to have heard.  I am most fresh in the morning.  Now at 3:55pm, I am far from fresh.  I have had laughter, many tears, and some screaming today.
The talented Amy Johnson photographed me at the site today.  I wanted grittier pictures for my professional persona.  Pictures that capture the emerging me – whoever that will be.  Some of the pictures we took today may not make ‘sense’ like me hysterically laughing at my friend Lainie’s jokes while resting my arm on torched and scared wood.  The juxtaposition of the blue Colorado sky, snow on the mountains in the distance, green pines covering hilltops (not mine hilltops, however), blackened concrete, twisted metal and me in a purple dress.  I snarled at the camera quite a lot – even shot it a double fisted bird which felt quite good.  (None directed at Amy, and she knew that).  For many reasons, Lainie was the perfect assistant. 
What would we do without our dogs?  Seriously.  My dogs keep me sane – along with all of you who read my blog J.  Ever since the fire, my back has been wrecked.  I have had massages, chiropractic treatments, begun walking again, stretch daily, hot tub regularly… Yesterday morning, after yoga and stretching, I bent slightly and it tweaked.  I fell to the floor sobbing.  Seriously.  The emotional pain is heavy enough – do we really need to add physical pain too?  Today I am seeing DJ at Evergreen Center for Therapeutic Massage, a practitioner who helped Steve Wilson get back to normal after his back injury.  Hoping, hoping, hoping.  It’s my sacrum – and whatever it is down there, it is holding on for dear life!  Shit howdy.  It gives me even more compassion for chronic pain sufferers like my dear husband and my father who have dealt with back pain for years. Back pain gives a sense of instability.  I can’t count on my core to hold me.  I can’t stand up straight.  The pain is sharp and stabbing.  I feel older than my years as I hobble around… Hmmm.  So glad there are no metaphorical or metaphysical connections there!
Three weeks ago today, I began what was to be a full day of conference calls before my trip to California.  Nothing seemed amiss, I had no premonitions of life altering forever, I just knew I needed to pace myself so as not to allow stress to overtake me during my busy day….
Were my nightmares of selling our house a premonition?  Was my declaration that 2012 be the year to release attachments an invisible force?  Was the resurgence of my depressive state in January and February a glimpse into my future?  Does God hate me?  Am I karmicly cursed?  Did I not have enough character already?  Do we live in a meaningless and random universe?  I will never truly know.  What I do know is I get to choose the meaning I assign to this – and as always, the crucial question is, does my interpretation empower me?  Right now, the jury is still out. 
Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.  Walt Whitman
At some point I will write about the metaphor of fire. I will write about the transformation that occurred and is occurring. I will write about who I became in the process and the multitude of gifts that enhanced my character.  It is still too early for that. 
Of course I can see the gifts of having community.  Yesterday we wrapped up a second full (and productive) day of site clean up. We were again supported by a crew full of friends as well as those I had never met.  All performing great acts of service as they sifted through ash and rubble, avoided stepping on the various hazards – nails, sharp edges of metal, piles of glass…  Quite a few times during the day, I imagined doing this alone – and stopped dead in my tracks.  No way.  Our community is carrying us.  That is for sure. 
Slept in!  Until 6:35am, that is.  And, woke up twice in the night.  At 4am, I thought I wasn’t going to go back to sleep.  I did – and dreamt that parts of the house were still standing.  I was attending a concert and decided to check my office for my tickets – lo and behold the wall with my bulletin board was still there and I found my concert tickets.  As the dream went on, more and more of my house was standing.  For some unknown reason, we lit a fire in the woodstove.  Then little fires started popping up places, one at the neighbors, one in another stove that we hadn’t lit and we had to run.  I didn’t want to leave it, again.
Tomorrow we will do our second clean up at the site with another crew of angels.  We will sift through the rest of the rubble of the house (still looking for David’s ring and perhaps a few more treasures) then we will move to David’s workshop – an 18x20 building with a loft, full of his tools, reloading equipment, old barn wood and antique furniture.  It is a disaster.