Last night I had a strange dream about a massive rooftop garden in some city, frozen over, nearly a mile up in the sky. I stood in this garden, in the middle of a blizzard, staring at a rickety rope bridge extending deep out into the unknown, presumably to another mile-high rooftop, while so many people formed a giant line as they crossed it, easily a hundred of them or more, disappearing into the clouds and snow one by one; wind rocking them gently, like an ocean wave, slowly enough to not impede their movement, but strong enough to make it clear that the bridge was not clamped down in any way, free to move wherever the wind might take it—In the dream I stood completely still, staring at this bridge while the crowd around me kept moving towards it as if it was the obvious and ordinary thing to do, and with each one that stepped off of the rooftop and onto that bridge I wondered, what must be on the other side that makes them so sure it’s where they want to go, and that the reward is greater than the risk?
A strange dream indeed.
As of Monday, I will officially owe mortgage money to a new faceless bank all on my own, rather than having a shared loan with a prior faceless bank.
Seems anti-climactic, but this is the final step in untangling the tangle, and well… given that it has taken 100 days so far and literally over 50 different documents proving that I am in fact a “good risk” well… fuck yeah, can’t wait to finish this.
Once the Town Clerk at the New Haven Hall of Records fishes out the signed deed I placed in their lobby dropbox today and properly files it, I will officially become the sole owner of the house I’ve lived in for the last decade.
That I am excited about.
I am slightly less excited about becoming the sole borrower on the house’s mortgage within a couple weeks from now, but eh, still feels like independence and closure just around the bend.
To make use of something, you rarely need to understand how it works, just what it can do for you.
To repair something, you do need to understand how it works.
Repairing something you have not repaired before involves making mistakes.
Mistakes often lead to damage, requiring further repairs, which in turn require even deeper understanding.
The more you understand something, the less damage your repairs will do.
But that understanding often comes the hard way.
(Philosophical musings on a badly broken bike)
Also, coincidentally, the day that my wife and I signed our final divorce agreement. A couple more weeks to go before it is finalized by the courts, but the hard and scary part is done now.
We both walked out of it feeling like we can start fresh on coexisting peacefully as parents, while building our own newly single lives as well.
I am sure that it doesn’t work for all cases, but for us, going with a mediator was a great way to make an insanely complicated process quite a bit simpler, and it kept us from going too far out into the thorn bushes.
The end result was an agreement we both felt was fair. And that’s important, because we’ve got another 12 years to go before our youngest kid is (technically, in the legal sense) “Grown up.”
12 years is also about how long my wife and I were together as partners, so… half way there, I guess? On different roads, but not so far apart as to lose sight of one another any time soon.
Tonight, I’ll pick up my guitar and have a proper practice session for the first time in weeks. Tomorrow, I’ll start digging myself out of all the work I’ve fallen behind on.
One foot in front of the other, one step at a time.
At least right in this very moment, the sun is shining bright, and the breeze is cool but not cold, and there is a wonderful combination of crickets chirping and motorcycle noises overlapping with one another in the most peculiar way.
Lately I have been so caught up in tying up loose ends that it has been hard to notice that beautiful new beginnings are cropping up in my life.
But it helps to remember that there are indeed newly planted seeds, though they need to winter over before they can break through the soil and get a bit of sunlight… that they are there and they are growing in their own quiet way, a little more each day.
With so much change under foot and over head, all that remains that I can call “me” is that which seems to hold steady through the whirlwind.
Seeing my own silhouette standing out against a sandstorm, I have never felt more confident in my ability to take care of myself, and to support my loved ones. I have never felt more grateful for the world of possibilities that the months and years to come will bring.
Yes, so much of the world is upside down and sideways right now. Yes, I can expect my own path to be rocky at best and perilous at worst. But what can I do?
Move forward one step at a time and try to find a bit of joy in each passing moment. Never has it felt so important to keep reminding myself of that simple idea.