I have been housesitting since
sometime around last July. It was a bit daunting, throwing caution to the wind and having no fixed abode. I was fortunate
enough to have to amazing backup plans – my daughter and her family, in
Brisbane, who I had, up until then
been living with, and my awesome friend, Karen and her family, who lived on the Sunshine
Coast, which was where I
was heading.
There was also the fear of ‘going it alone’ again. After all, it
hadn’t worked so well those first few years after Butch passed away. Would I
end up ‘losing myself’ again, or struggling to look after and nurture me? So
many questions and so many ‘I don’t know’ answers!
Having always been a ‘list’ person, who planned everything down to the last possible item, I hoped housesitting might
encourage me to be a bit more spontaneous.
I had been wanting to do it for
quite some time, but needed to make sure that I procured a job first, because,
that’s how I roll… It seemed exciting and scary in alternate doses, especially
staying with someone other than a
family member. I had had a pretty daunting experience several years ago, while
staying with a friend, and wasn’t sure if I wanted this friendship to end in a
similar vein. There is nothing like projecting a past misfortune on a current one,
even though so much of it was going to be entirely different…but hey, we all
tend to do that.
My first night with Karen, Johno
and their family, was
nerve-racking…for about five minutes! They made me feel so welcome. I was made
to feel like part of the family,
right down to the teasing and
ribbing that families do when you visit.
I had only been up on the Coast for five weeks, when I received an email
to say the company I worked for
could no longer afford to employ me. I must admit this was the first time I had ever lost a job I loved, so it was tempting to just pack it in and
go back to the way it was. Tempting
as it was, I persevered, telling myself that if things hadn’t improved by
December, I would leave.
It has been four months, I don’t
have a job, and I am trying to exist on a benefit. Not quite what I had in mind
when I moved here…
The first housesit I did was
perfect; they appreciated everything
I did, their pet and I bonded to the point that I cried as I left after two weeks…
There have been quite a few since
then, full of highs, lows,
disasters, frustration, peace, relaxation, nature, stamina, energy….
I have adapted to the lifestyle quite well, and have quickly become
‘in demand’ as word of what I do spreads. However, there
are always drawbacks. It can be quite lonely sometimes. Sure there is a pet to keep me company, but sometimes I
crave a good chat…and dare I say it, even a hug…
I am fortunate that Karen and I
spend time together, chatting,
planning our classes and working with our pamper packages, but I don’t want her
to feel she needs to boost me, or that she’s my only port of call. If there is a long break between housesits, I will go
and visit my family in Brisbane,
but there is this empty feeling that
kinda settles on and around me sometimes.
I have always been the odd man out, even as a child. I was the weird, kooky, non conformist strange girl that
never quite fit in. That didn’t change, even as a young adult. I met Butch and
he accepted me as I was and helped me to embrace it, instead of rejecting who I
really was. I didn’t have to try and fit in any more, after all Butch thought I
was okay, and that was good enough for me. We weren’t the
most sociable of couples, preferring to spend the
majority of our time together at
home.
After Butch passed, being a widow
brought another aspect of ‘being an
outsider’ into my life. Not only had I lost my main cheerleader, but I suddenly
became the ‘Watch out, she’s a widow
now. She’ll probably steal your husband’ variety of outcast. Firm friends
became fast friends, as they sped
out of my life. They weren’t the
only ones to give me a wide berth, women would eye me suspiciously as I spoke
to their men. *sigh* I understand
that everyone wants to be in a couple (except me) and hold onto what they have…but it doesn’t mean I am interested in
having what you’ve got.
We had an awesome relationship,
so looking for someone else isn’t in my plan right now. I sometimes feel as if there is life after Butch, but it is such a slow and
painful process, I wonder if I will actually survive it long enough to
notice.
I embraced my psychic-ness not
long after and oh boy!, I wasn’t prepared for the
way people would view me from that perspective as well. However, there are just as many people out there who accept that side of me, and I am willing
to share…
This morning as I was walking, I
was pondering on life in general. I came to the
conclusion that housesitting has actually compounded my loneliness. I’m not in
one place long enough to make friends and socialise, to join a club, or even a
yoga group.
I broke my little toe about a
month ago – this is the third time
in eight years that I have broken this same toe. I have knocked it continuously
during this time, so it is still red, swollen and has a slight twist to it now.
My belief is that any injury or
illness is a reflection of our emotions and energy. So, what does a small toe
on a right foot mean to me. Well, the
right side of our body is connected to our action/movement, so clearly I am not
‘stepping’ in the direction I want
to.
A little toe, well, that is all
about ‘connection’. I am feeling disconnected from the
rest of the world, my old friends, a
job, my family (by distance), myself, the
ability to do what I truly want – thanks to a lack of funds.
To fix my issue with this toe, I
don’t need to ‘make up’ with my old friends, but I do need to start looking at
how I can connect, to make a bigger effort than I have done. I need to stop
expecting things to change just because I’m not happy about them. I need to change my view on life, declutter
what isn’t working for me and begin to see things with fresh eyes.
On the
bright side, being unemployed and housesitting has enabled me to focus more on
my writing. I have also learned I don’t need a lot of possessions to make me
happy – everything I need, including a massage table and two cases of massage
towels, doesn’t even fill my car to the
brim.
What to do next? Hmm, I have no idea. However, I am going to say that being aware of the problem is a 'step' in the right direction
