Getting fired and changing plans

 

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When a door is closed a window opens

I’ve sat too long staring out into the ocean today. I turn to rest my cheek on a bright red shoulder, stealing the warmth that the sunshine left there. I had a popsicle and a bag of chips. I had my journal. In the ocean and the sun, I had everything I need.

What I didn’t account for were the thoughts bursting out of synapses in my brain, wondering through the details of my next steps.

I climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills
Till the landslide brought me down

The Fleetwood Mac cover band seemed to be the only thing happening in town on a Sunday night when I strolled into the Cabana, looking for something to do.

The low lights, the amateur sound tech, the shy and gentle guitarist, expertly enticing melodies to flow out of strings—it was all so familiar. I settled into a seat at the edge of the small crowd and nursed my ginger beer, watching.

What was lacking in banter between songs was made up for in hearty vocals, pouring out of the musicians from a deep and unquenchable well.

Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life? 

I came home refreshed. I needed time away from tasks and responsibility and attempting to be part of a family I was never quite a part of. The last couple weeks of nannying had been going all right, but I don’t think I would say they had been going well. We knew this; we’d been talking about it. It may have been my four-day fever, or my missteps in wanting to engage with the children in a household philosophy of leaving them to their own world, but it was clear something needed to give.

“This isn’t working,” she said, after a couple of minutes of conversation when I came through the door.

“Time to cut the cord,” came my response.

We hammered out as many details as possible and agreed I’d stay until they found a replacement.

Time to cut the cord. What an odd phrase to pop into my head, just what exactly has been birthed in my time here? I hadn’t wanted to stay. Despite an initial feeling that I was in the right place, it became difficult to engage with the family in a cohesive manner. As time progressed, the lack of cohesion within the family itself became more and more clear and there I was, left to watch it all unfold in front of me.

I stayed in a valiant effort to learn about commitment. I don’t want to cut and run (there it is again) every time things aren’t as easy as I’d hoped. I want to learn about myself, even in difficult situations. Especially in difficult situations.

Yet there I was being shown the door. I guess when I don’t align with a situation I really will be removed from it, despite all of my intentions to stick it out.

But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m getting older too 

I’ll head south to Nelson next. I feel like part of me has been resisting the inevitable that I go there. I surrender now. To everything.

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Gathering flowers in the gardens at the family farm, 40 minutes out of town.
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Sheepie friends in the sunset’s fuzzy light.
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Lily the aging pony, eying me up.
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