Pia sat playing solitaire and feeling rather dull. Ace of Diamonds. Jack of Clubs. Why was it that she liked the clubs least of all? What did that say about her? Queen of Hearts. Now there was a sweet one. But where was the Jack of Hearts that needed to go on top? If it was buried she was done for.
As her fingers and mind played with the silly combinations and coped with the frustration of starting over and over, she was also idling like a car engine waiting at a train crossing for the arrival of someone – or something – so she could move on.
There were a lot of things she could be doing today. She could go over to the Zimmer’s and talk with them about beginning to connect into the hospice situation with their grandmother who had just been moved into their “granny flat.” They’d advertised recently for caregivers. She could write the article she’d promised Cali for the next issue of Squawk! She could at least decide the subject of the article. She could search out Raven in his studio garage at the bottom of the hill and have a talk about whether or not to do the retreat workshop coordinating business they’d been fantasizing setting into place….
King of Diamonds needs the Queen…. which is buried under the six of spades. Yes! There is the Seven of Spades free to give the six its spot…. If I can just find a place for the Three of Diamonds….
She’d told Charley and Ursula the other night that she was ready to search out the first speakers for the long dreamed of workshop series and ReTreat business. But she had not been speaking the whole truth. She knew how to make the initiatory calls. Among them all they had enough contacts to get a good line up for the first several at least. She knew how to do the PR and where to find a place and…. and…. She even knew the steps to take to launch the larger effort that they could pitch to potential funders as “economic development” and which she thought of as “local brewing.” But she hadn’t been able to get herself to make the calls. She wasn’t really sure she wanted to do it at all….
She could text Ursula right now and ask for a tarot reading. That might help her get over this hump or at least give a clue what the resistance was. She could climb the Mountain and see if some inspiration came to her on the hike…. “That’s a good idea,” she told herself heartily. “Maybe aerobic exercise will get me out of these doldrums.”
She’d been a busy girl most of her life – doing the good things that made it possible to have the good life and community she now enjoyed. This stalled feeling was a strange one for her who had always known the next steps. They had been so obvious. Pregnant and alone? Seek out a group of women to connect with for support. Want a home birth? Start a network to support the midwife she had just met. Have a child who needs friends? Round up the homebirth families for a preschool playgroup. Then a school. And who better than her to be the school secretary? It meant she was able to be near Arlo but not often in the classroom…. growing the crop of children that would carry out the next steps of the dream….
Her own Jack of Hearts did come along. Raven had swooped in with a passionate embrace of all that the community and its environs meant to her. He understood immediately the wider picture of what the bunch of them were up to. Plus he had been a perfect substitute father as Arlo entered his teen years and could benefit from the mentorship Raven offered. There had been some rough patches as the two guys learned to share her but the delicate balance of a triangle had been achieved with relative grace and Arlo had bloomed into a beautiful man.
She’d left the school office to Cindy a few years ago, wanting to try out her wings in some new endeavors. Raven’s success as a “trash” artist, combined with odd jobs and teaching art at the community college had meant a little freedom for her from the press of wage earning. She – and then they – had always needed very little to live on. When it became obvious that the house she’d lived in for years would be sold when the elderly owners died, she and Raven had set about organizing the Housing Trust to create the cooperative neighborhood of their dreams. Elk Ridge achieved, she had a little income as coordinator of the development and now as nominal manager. But…. she was restless again.
A cup of coffee would perk her up and give her the energy to do whatever it was she decided on for this day at least. She could even walk down to the restaurant and have a latte if she wanted. Not even a skinny soy one. The possibility of that treat gave her comfort and allowed her to muddle a bit more.
She kept getting the feeling that she shouldn’t be doing admin stuff any more. She envied Ursula for having created a nice new niche that seemed to involve less organizational shit. Plus Charley had the Cedar ReSource Project going and had some income. She and Raven didn’t need much but she ought to be contributing her share….
Could the astrology thing be formalized a little more and become a money source? She didn’t know enough to get professional on that score…. She couldn’t even figure out what was going on astrologically with her own self right now and couldn’t afford the training she would need to do it right. In fact, she generally wasn’t inclined to get more training in anything specific. “Making it up” as she went along had always been her modus more than going to school.
It bothered her that she and Raven had publically insinuated that they were actually going to do the ReTreat business (or whatever it was going to be called). Would it be a terrible copping out to just not do it? She didn’t like to be seen as flaking out on something she “signed up” for. Of course, who, but herself, was making her do it? “Surely you have enough of a track record of accomplishing what you’ve set out to do,” she chided herself. “Nobody will think lesser of you. They’ll be disappointed. This is something we’ve all visualized. Is it up to you to make it happen?” She didn’t think Raven would care. He was counting on her to do the organizational part of it anyway. Maybe there was someone else they could help get going on it….
What if this was like her aborted vision quest back when Arlo and crew were doing them as part of finishing high school. Someone had to model coming down before the end. It had gotten cold and rainy. Late March was a dumb ass time for a solo in the woods with only a tarp for protection. Nevertheless, it had been hard for her to sensibly give up and walk down off the Mountain without even a single night alone….
Round and round her thoughts went. Maybe she should climb the Mountain – visit the Shrine – see if there was any guidance to be had up there.
But as she was putting on her faded purple sweatshirt (Nekelew High Class of 2000) and scarlet tennies, another thought occurred to her. It had been a long time since she’d been to the River. If she went through the State Park she could walk around where the River neared the ocean and visit the Bay Shrine. The mate to the one on the Mountain. With this thought a heron flew over heading towards the estuary. Long legs sticking out, it gave a single throaty honk of greeting which seemed to confirm the notion that her watery side needed addressing rather than the earth and fire of the mountain. Checking her watch, she grinned to see 11:11. It was always a good sign when the numbers were the same or lined up in a sequence, but all ones was an especially significant omen.