Trash and the state of my soul

I stepped out this morning to the chill that reminds me of what is coming. I stood on our deck in the mountain air and willed myself to feel something akin to normal. This summer has not felt normal. The monsoonal rains which left mold wafting through our cottage, the decline in business to our guest cottage, the loss of intimacy with neighbors has left my soul in a bewildered state. The weather challenges all around the country, from wild fires which are burning in record numbers in the north and west, to the hurricanes Harvey and now Irma, that have rendered much of the south and east helpless and debilitated. I wonder if the signs of global warming have come to roost. The naysayers and the activists alike are reaping the onslaught of a very angry planet. An earthquake, magnitude 8 in Mexico. Droughts, flooding, carnage. The world is broken.

Our own homes here are broken too. Tenants, the like of which we have never seen, left our ranch in complete destruction. Broken ceilings full of mold, cracked sinks, broken doors, sprinkler systems, weeds taller than my 5’1 inch frame. Then they threatened to sue us. While the cottage on the mountain continued to emit a moldy smell in rooms for no apparent reason. My husband has little time to sleep. We have little help from community. I continue to go to the Dr every week, just to stay alive, just to try to eat. It is just my husband and I…putting one foot in front of the other, plodding without much hope some days. I awakened this morning, my heart slamming in my chest..a nightmare that would not leave me in the night. Violence, on every channel, long time friends silent and neglectful.

I wrote a book and it was met with much indifference. A few lovely people contributed their time and thoughts to launching the soul of me from its pages. The world could care less. My 90-year-old dad said “I needed to write a book with a sex scene in it.” We looked at each other wide-eyed and began to laugh hysterically, this precious church going man and I. What has the world come to? He is sadly right I think, and the sex is getting graphic (think 50 Shades of Grey). I can’t even begin to compete with that.

I have lost so many friends to this election. The polarization of white conservative, evangelicals backing a President that lies, taunts, bullies, acts as if he is a dictator, incites violence with his words, disrespect people and women, removes any protection set in place for the environment and it’s people. It has left me floundering in the church pew I once called home. I am adrift.

So I listen as best I can to the birds chirping. I listen as best I can to the sounds of normal.  If one more person tells me to “trust God” and not lift a finger to help I think I just might……………….Not sure what I might do. The other day I stumbled outside with piles of trash all around me and cried for an hour. It’s been a long and lonely summer. All of it, the trash coming from Washington, the trash left from the carnage of storms, the trash left from disrespectful and spoiled young tenants for whom the world must cater to. It has left my soul in a state of confusion and grief.  Normally I like to leave my writing on a postive note. Not today…not today


3 thoughts on “Trash and the state of my soul

  1. Oh, my sweet friend, I hurt for you—WITH you. It’s hard to cope with all the things going on right now. So hard. I don’t have any answers… but sending love your way from Indiana. Hang in there. And know you’re not alone. xo


  2. victoriawoodworth says:

    I hurt that you are hurting my sister, my friend. I hurt that you have hurt so deeply for so very very long. I pray hard and burning prayers for change, for healing in your life and the life of this aching planet. I am only one small person. Only an inconsequential speck in this vast universe. But my prayers are loud. Loud, angry, hot. Hopefully they are just annoying enough. Hopefully the squeaky wheel will get the grease.I love you.


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