Montana Wolf

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Dig, Squat, Wash

The pounding hail and sheets of rain finally stopped. A neon band of rainbow appeared over the lake, contrasted by the charcoal sky. The end curved and dropped directly in front of La Perla's door. But as it is with rainbows, you must view the richness from a place called 'away.' If you're in it, you can't see.

I am far afield; seeing rainbows but not touching them. I know they are there, on the cusp of some altered reality. They come and go. As signs and omens come and go. Like when I dropped the moka espresso pot that Dahn and I shared and the plastic handle went flying off. I knew then, we were over. Weeks of trying to forge a relationship culminated in our inability to "get a handle on it." Misplaced loyalties and bad judgements won over our intent to bring out the best in one another. 

A good friend reminded me that to answer an invitation to travel to to British Colombia from someone I barely knew came too fast. But I answered Dahn's suggestion for me to retreat. Come and sit for the summer, he said, you could use a rest. And there were 135 emails and countless phone calls from him that spanned three months that proclaimed a magical, eternal love. As I thought about her comment, I realized that my relationships have happened relatively fast. Some lasted a few weeks, but most lasted years; the best and the worst, for many. If waiting has to do with knowing someone I am quick to remind myself that the person I spent the most time with, in the end, turned out to be the one I knew least. If waiting has to do with spying incompatible habits, wrong again. Intuitions ferret those out pretty quickly; much more effectively than time. As in this case, waiting was not going to divulge the man who admitted he was a different person when he returned to his hometown milieu.

Some environs respond to the soul, others don't. Creston didn't fit for me. The vibration never matched, but it was only for the summer, right? I thought Dahn and I would be just fine if we took to the mountains to hike, got onto the lake or rode bikes. But in three short weeks we were deluged by dramas as Dahn cut off his finger tip, his best friend took it upon himself to charge at us like a rampaging bull and evict us from his land, and my purse, with cash, jewelry, cell phone and bank cards, was stolen.

You sit there reading and think: "And she had to wait for the coffee pot to drop?"


You'd be right, if energies hadn't appeared to take a turn. A kitten riding on the frame of the pick-up for miles brought us care and laughs. We shared family gatherings ~~ I dearly loved Anna, Dahn's mom; we made it onto Kootenay Lake in the boat for one glorious day. But it turned out that energies were like the goosenecks in the Kootenay River, swinging around and onto themselves. Dahn and I had different sensibilities. We dealt with stress in different ways that ran counter to the hope of any partnership. The same day Dahn bought a pre-owned truck camper for future excursions we imploded; I packed and skedaddled, saturated with all the trauma I could take.

I arrived Kaslo and my best friend Carole's and parked the trailer whereupon the breakaway cable and box started on fire. The metaphor wasn't lost on me. The amazing coda was a Facebook friend who saw my post and contacted me. He had me get under the trailer, snap pictures of the damage and send them to him. He was concerned about the electrical fire starting again. Once he studied the pictures he talked me through diagnosing, cutting and wrapping cables. Thanks largely to him, the energy has turned. I am hiking, writing and photographing again. A kitty named Hobo sits on my lap and purrs me to wellness, as my nerves and muscles relax beyond shaking spasms and dissolve into calm. Another friend stopped in Port Hill, Idaho, the border stop six miles south of Creston, and picked up my mail. It saved me a day's trip down and back and delivered my new bank card. I now have access to my money again. I still wait for my new driver's license.

I know the rainbows are at my front door. I have only to inhale the color and remember who I am. I'm not going to fault myself for giving love a try. We did the best we could in the midst of circumstances that seemed straight from hell.

Right here, right now, the most important thing I can do is to squat and rinse the new red potatoes just dug from the garden.

5 comments:

  1. Gotta pay attention to those signs...

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  2. Following all the ups and downs, from broken coffee pots to radiant rainbows!

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  3. As I see it,a man has to stay pretty sharp to hang out with you, Christina, for any length of time.

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  4. So from the heart of things - I love it! I'm enjoying following along on your wild journey. A lot of times it is easier to look back on the omens and go aha than truly comprehend in the moment. Distance and reflection allow us to see the poetry of life that we oftentimes loose in our craziness! Thanks for sharing!

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