Silence

Well, I haven't heard anything from Wells Fargo since that garbled message left by the real estate agent a while back. That can be either a good thing or a bad thing. It does gives me more time to find a new place to live and to find either a full-time job (I have an interview on July 23rd for a full-time librarian position with Hillsborough County - yay!) or another part-time job since I can't wait for the furloughed part-time job to come back whenever. The silence could also turn out to be not-such-a-good-thing in that there could be a sudden rush to get me out or the Wells Fargo eviction team could change the locks while I'm at work. I'll just have to wait and see because that's about all I can do right now. I feel like I'm living in a cliff-hanger season ending for a TV show. What will happen to our heroine in the coming season? Will she find a new, fantastic home for her and her cats that she can easily afford, or will she be living in her ancient BMW with its uneven tires, bipolar idle, and squealing brakes? Tune in next season to find out.

But meanwhile, I keep on packing. Okay, not really. Not right now. I kinda stopped for a bit because I hurt my back lifting or moving a heavy box and then twisting and turning through the maze of boxes in my small abode to get to where I need to go. I really should pack clothes I'm not wearing, and I really should go through those clothes to see what I want to get rid of. I really should.

I'm trying to quiet my being at this time because what is happening is beyond me right now. People say that it will all work out just fine, but I work in a downtown library where there are a lot of homeless people who use its services. They probably had a home at some time in their lives, and now they don't. It could be as simple as being kicked out your home because of a foreclosure and not having enough money to carry on from there. So, that is why I need to force myself to be quiet, to be peaceful because panic and worry don't help, and I happen to be a somewhat nervous person when it comes to uncertainty. A long time ago, I stood outside by a garage talking to my younger brother's friend -- a tall, blond young man in his early 20s -- who, simply and unequivocally, felt at peace when it came to money and being able to support himself how he wanted. He believed that all the money he needed would be supplied to him in one way or another. No worries at all. I was stunned. Where did this peace come from, this deep belief that the Universe would not let him down when it came to money? And how did he come by this certainty at such a young age? I have yet to truly understand that truth, and, indeed, according "new age" beliefs, it is a truth. We get what we ask for; we get what we think and believe, most of which is subconscious. And that's why I constantly live on the edge of financial ruin, on the edge of homelessness. Somewhere, somehow, I formed a belief that I can't take care of myself, that I'm not worthy, that I'm an unwanted stepchild. (I am not a stepchild in real life.) Crazy. And that's where silence comes in. If I'm so focused on listening to the babbling going on in my conscious mind, I'm not going to hear what my spirit is saying. It's worth a try. What have I got to lose? I'm already teetering on the edge of disaster. I conquered stage 3 cancer (at least so far); it can't be that difficult to conquer a conscious mind that I created.