New Mexico So Far...

Pete leaves each morning for work and in this tiny box of a house I wait. Letting the dogs out I'm greeted by dead cockroaches on the back porch. I fritter away hours on the patio surrounded by an assortment of mismatched aluminum and plastic furniture. In my mind's eye, I picture an ashtray filled with butts smoked to nubs sitting on the table beside me, lending a nice touch to the

rundown atmosphere in which I am existing for now.

The dogs are happy for my company though, and the exploration of new territory excites them. Gobi trollops over and plops his pudgy front paws onto my thigh for a quick check in; as I lean down to scratch his ears the smell of sage hits my nostrils. Ginger, our old girl, mostly rests in her bed at my side, looking up periodically to reassure herself that I'm still there. This trip has taken its toll on her and I try not to question our decision to bring her.

Like my mother's arms, fear and doubt wrap themselves around me at every turn; questions burble up from the dark. Was moving a good idea? Will I teach yoga again? Will our house sale in CA finally go through? Will we have a place to live next week? So much unknown leaves me feeling unmoored.

With all of this time on my hands I force myself to write. Sometimes the words crash together in poetic perfectness, yet other times the words form misshapen piles of shit feeding the

insidious doubt that follows me like a shadow.

I remind myself that I chose this path with eyes wide open.

I had become too attached to my students and the accolades I was receiving. Too attached to all the comfort and love surrounding me. In Vedantic philosophy, freedom is defined by one’s happiness not being connected to any external agencies, i.e., people, places, jobs, money, etc. I consciously chose this path in order to find freedom/happiness without attachment, not that I have high hopes of actually achieving that, but I want to try.

I'm approaching this as another opportunity to become a little bit more comfortable in my own skin. A lifelong battle, and with fifty just around the corner, what better gift could I give myself?