I keep finding myself pressed up against the issue of housing. Where I live, where I want to live, and the chasm between them. This issue goes hand in hand with a mother ton of negativity, frustration, and a feeling of helplessness. I'm angry at the owner of my building. I want to have a roof that isn't (literally) full of holes. I want windows that keep the cold out. I want walls that don't grow mold, and that aren't crumbling (again, literally). I am angry because I cannot believe that it is a lack of money that prevents these things being done, but a lack of care. And I deserve care, respect, a safe place to live. And so I have cycled through and around all of this for over a year now. I packed most of our belongings. We gave notice. We stopped paying rent. We started work on other dilapidated apartments in exchange for it. I visualized and worked on manifesting my homestead. I accepted that this is where I am and unpacked. I re painted and re decorated. Recently we considered a temporary move of 6 months to a transitional space. Then we considered making peace with where we are (really this time) as we hope for the sale and subsequent salvation of our building.
What do I do? I create my peace, I create my life, I create my space, I choose how I react. I choose to stay, or to go.
Last night I spent a frenzied 20 minutes re organizing and randomly scrubbing at things with a magic eraser. Whipped up into a little tornado of anxiety. Thinking of the next day, the upcoming week, the things I want to do/need to do. In desperate need of some centering, I laid in bed and breathed. I let go of the next day. I felt warm, safe, quiet. I felt Nik'l reading beside me. I felt how perfect and complete the moment was, and slept.