Mysteries of the Faith

Well, the Faith has been challenged and questioned, and truthfully, I've failed completely at having any.  To have a constant reminder, I had 'faith' tattooed on my wrist, believing that word in such a constantly viewed place would lend me a stronger belief, leading to that peace that no one can understand.  

Here I sit in the spare room - the 'craft' room - the boys' newest room in southwest Philly suburbs, contemplating all that I've lost, or never had, or lacked, and how to start over.  Again.  I'm 33 and it seems like I keep on starting over.  I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing.  Last night Anna and I talked late into the am, I - admitting my blindspots and also realizing how I am doing what I intended to do - community.  It's not in-place, pre-conceived, standard-set - more like fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants and need and love-based.  This is the third home we've lived in since late August, and the third home with children.  First it was two children, married friends, then a single mom of three, now a single mom of one.  There are chores here and I have a certain barter agreement that helps both families wonderfully.  There are expectations and freedom.  It is a small scale of how communities work, maybe for me it's a great exercise and model for how relationships work.  I say for me, but really for everyone involved.  

Since moving here, 15 minutes from Philadelphia, where Mercury was born and I met her father, our first intended stop on the proposed bus journey - I have had waves of doubt, panic, depression, excitement, motivation, exhaustion, and constant reflection.  Because of needs I see now I have re-configured the entire idea of a bus.  I'm not sure into what - Sirius sits in North Carolina in my friend's yard between his farmhouse and an old graveyard, snugly resting under some pines and maples, equally watching over the dearly departed, solemning gaurding over the crumbling, moss-embraced stones and my single father friend and his sweet son on the other side - a symbolic dividing wall of physical life and death. . .I accidentally left the boys' winter coats tucked away on the bus.  We are truly living simply, and it does feel great, not lacking, up in the great northeast - where even my friend goes a bit overboard for Christmas.  It's an increasingly material world, and being in a metropolitan area, it has really hit.  I'm so proud of the kids, though - First we sell most of our possessions (toys and clothes and shoes included - how many shoes do kids need in America??), then pack our remaining things on a school bus.  Then pack a much smaller amount into our Honda Civic (the old version, the antique - 1992), and you'll never guess how well they are doing and how much they appreciate and how little they want for.  They play for hours with the same handful of legos.  Mercury carries her doll everywhere and makes things constantly for her instead of whining about the brand name accessories available that question my ethics and values - 'American Girl' dolls all made in China and exceptionally expensive, yet neccessary if you are anyone in the public's eye.   I was bought a very expensive ticket to see one of my favorite bands, The Cure, in NYC - all I had to wear were some workout pants and a plain blue t-shirt.  Ten years ago I may have decided against attending if it meant no flashy wardrobe to be doned.  But i was thankful I had something clean.  Being surrounded by constant shopping and nicer cars and cable tv (OH NO!!!!!!) and especially the month of December has really been an interesting lesson in simplicity.  

Speaking of, no - I still haven't been down to the Simple Way, because before my ideals and dreams comes my children, which I've looked over in ways since our initial fail to set sail in September, so this adjusting time has been spent on them. . .But truly, I think of Sirius and traveling the country and experiencing all the different communities on a level where we are involved. . .well, i wanted simple - we have it - I wanted community with our direct involvement and participation - we have it - I wanted travel - well, we are 500 miles from where we begun. . .

Now my focus includes auto-focus on my Nikon, documenting my journey for home and my kids' journey as a result, whatever that looks like, wherever that is, with whomever it is with.  Our bouncing around isn't random, isn't failure, isn't punishment, isn't a reflection of my shortcoming - it's been a gift, it HAS been planned - just not by me (by the Universe, God) - it is and has been golden opportunity to change and grow, to be truly thankful this Thanksgiving - for beds and warmth and a working toilet, for socks and friends who care, for friends who open up everything without holding back at all.  This short 3 months has seemed like a lifetime, and has been - from an engagement to single, extreme poverty, incredible people, sailboats, ICU's, hard work, tears and panic and tattoes, pretending to be normal, finding God in the most un-likey places like my tears in my car 2 hours from where I call home last night, running on empty for 96 miles through the city throbbed with optical glows in ebbs and flows down I95. . . 

God and I had a nice conversation last night and I kinda got the feeling God was telling me I've not only lost focus of the point in my sites, but dropped the spy glass all together.  God was very gentle about it all, though.  This morning I am beginning to look for that spy glass - I think I dropped it in the car. . .