The same day that Kitty passed on, Jeff and I simultaneously and separately thought, ‘Oh. We don’t need the trailer anymore’. In large part we bought it for her. We had the notion to jump around place to place for caretaking, housesitting, and petsitting gigs. But to find a place that accepted cats? Highly unlikely in my mind. I look at it now and see that we likely weren’t ready for that kind of leap, or that kind of freedom. So it all fit perfectly. Continue reading “Keeping the Faith”
March 9, 2001 a little kitten came into this world. She was wild, not quite feral, but almost. It appears that she had kitten-hood trauma from dogs, nothing violent, but unpleasant for her. Her first caretaker was Indy Roberts in Gunnison, CO. They were together for 5 years. Then she came to me. I don’t know what made me say yes, but I knew it was a yes. I had met Emerald and I really liked. And Indy had called to ask if I would take her. Emerald was very unhappy living with dogs, of which there were at least one at all times she’d been with Indy. Emerald would just army-crawl from room to room; slinking in and out. She would rip the shit out of a toilet paper roll, she would start crying early in the morning. Indy thought she could be happier, somewhere else, and with me. Continue reading ““Soar in Peace, Emerald””
I’m beginning to think that our trailer is not just a trailer. And more of a rolling trauma treatment center. Where people go to leave what’s seen as the “regular” world behind and focus on what matters most. The two current inhabitants of this treatment center happen to be me and Jeff. What matters most for us, or for me I’ll just speak for myself going forward, is healing and focusing on our true purpose. I don’t know exactly what my true purpose is but I know what it is and isn’t, in a way. Or I could say, I know when I’m on the path and when I’ve veered off. I’ve been on this path, well probably my whole life. I think that’s our soul’s purpose and we all have varying degrees of success finding it in our time on earth. But I can mark it as intentionally starting when I was 27 and started Al-Anon. When I started my recovery, as they call it. Which is a word I still use because I like it and it fits. Continue reading “Discipline & Routines”
I’ve gone round and round with myself to write this piece since I was in Orange County, let’s see…2 months ago. I had just had a session with Suzanne (a healer I work with) and one of my big takeaways from it was: I’ve got to be my own psychic. Now, by psychic I mean many things: healer, answer-giver, medium, touchstone. I will likely never be a person that doesn’t seek out discussion or learning; that’s not my problem. But valuing my own findings above all others is where I still have work to do. But I have come a loooooong way. And it’s funny to write that. Because I think I’m seen as an arrogant person and people would say, “Emily, you seem to care about your own opinion above all others. And are all to eager to tell everyone what that is.” Whether or not I’m still seen that way, I swing between confidence in my intuition and finding someone that can tell me about me. Or the world or whatever. So of course with Suzanne this was going to happen to some degree. I was fascinated with the tools she had that I didn’t and the information she had that I didn’t. But I can still shift into investing too much into the truth of others (Right Heather??). Again, come along way but the propensity is still there. So however long ago this session was, like 2-2 ½ months ago, it hit me harder than it ever has: I’m ready to be my own psychic. I’m ready to value what I can channel, find, pray for, invision as much as I do from others. And I was ready to do what it took to achieve that.
First question: composting toilet. Why did you choose this over whatever the normal RV option is? What are the costs? (initially and on-going), what is involved in the upkeep?(how often? where do you “dump”, etc)
I don’t know about all of you, but with the full-timing RVers and Sailers that I follow, I have an endless array of questions. And I wondered if any of you feel the same about our life.
SO THIS IS MY CALL FOR QUESTIONS! Continue reading “Q & A: A Call for Questions!”
What is it with me that I remember something so shameful and painful and then want to write about it? I just recently had a triggering event. That sounds so dumb, but I really talk like that. I think of one of my younger, previous clients. She would probably want to roll her eyes at me and I’d want to tell her: ‘I really talk and think like this!’ Triggering event: I call it getting zinged. Or you could say getting walloped. And then you spiral down inside yourself and want to disappear. It always hits on these primary wounds, the things that follow us around and we seem to overreact to all our lives. I have several. This last one was a combination of money = value (I don’t have enough, so I’m worth less) and … you know what? That pretty much covers it. All the other reactions came from some version of that this time. Continue reading “Sharing Secrets”
This idea came to me a last week. And I wanted to share with you.
She goes by many names: Kitty, Emerald, Rascal, Rat’s Nest, Princess, Boots, Ginny, Virginia Boots, Rat Hole, Rascal Flatts, Sweet Pea and on and on.
Whatever the name; she is our Baby. And she lights up our life. And then vomits on it. Continue reading “The Divine Miss Kitty”