A month. That's how long I've been gone from home. I was home for 3 weeks before that and before that I was gone for 3 months. Oh sure, I managed to stop in a few times over a too-short <24 hour stay. I get home, regroup, tell my kids I love them, throw in a load of laundry, cook them some food for the week and continue on my way. It's not ideal, but it could be much worse.
I cried a lot. I struggled/am struggling, but am better able to cope. And it changed as soon as I threw it up in the air. Sitting here, in a sideways location of mine trying to keep it all running for The Man while the rest of my territory may as well be deserted as I'm holed-up in one place, trapped; I cried again, missing home, kids & T. It never fails, you know. That thing called faith? It's so profound and will sneak right up on you.
I've had people ask me "what do you believe? How can you believe in 'nothing'?" I don't know how to describe it, but here's a go at it:
It's like the angry volcano bubbling away, and you're the little guy. It bubbles and spews into the sky and surrounding areas until it all explodes. Little-guy runs for protection time and again because his protection keeps burning down. When the lava-river finally catches up to his last tiny hope of protection, he yells for help, hoping, praying, asking, begging, pleading.... He doesn't know IF anyone will hear him, but he yells out anyway. Because he doesn't have any choice left BUT to cry for help.
It's not because I have 'proof' of anything or that I believe where there is a will there's a way. Sometimes everything works against you until you beg for help. Call it the forces of the universe. Call it God. Call it karma. It's the real deal, anyway, whatever name it has. But there you are, being buried alive by life's curveballs, and finally out of desperation, you leave it up to something else.
And there it is... That tiny flicker in the distance that tells you, "yep, you got this. keep going."
I got this. Onward and upward.
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