The Road to 65, Mile 261: Trusting the Journey

August 16, 2915, Prescott-  It is coming down to a very telling choice.  Perhaps as early as November, maybe not until January, 2017, or at some point in between the two, my intuition is telling me it’s time to move on.

I say November, because by then, my pledges to the Yavapai County Angels and Hope Fest will have been honoured, the snows will be gathering in Massachusetts, and I don’t want to leave my mother alone, in that house where we grew up, while the rest of my family is facing stresses of their own.

I say it’s time to move on, because all my friends in this town of Prescott are doing just fine, and will continue to be fine whether I’m here or not.  Truth is, I am spending more, in a modestly expensive apartment, with minimal day-to-day work, then I have in any given month on the road, these past few years. I am not a salesman, yet I have looked to help people with a product in which I believe, but without seed money, one cannot do much in establishing an essential oils trade, and I am NOT going to go the “Fund Me” route.  I have been offered a minimum wage position as an apartment complex manager, but would still have to pay my own full rent- so that’s out.

I have had some places come into my head, in quiet moments.  I could settle in a more economical living space, live in a place where  I could pretty much walk to a school, where I could substitute teach, and a few such places have entered my consciousness.  I could also go somewhere where people live in community, not in semi-anonymity.  Places where my presence would be discomfiting to people I know online or in real time, and there are a few such people, would not be on my list of options.

These are all rather petty-sounding, I know, and many have it far worse than me.  The issue for me, though, is more existential.  It’s more a matter of no place having really felt like home, since Penny passed.  It’s more a matter of people having their own priorities and life patterns, in which someone like me does not belong.  I know, that will be the same, no matter where I go, and that will be something I have to face.  My welcome here, though, is wearing thin, and so it’s time to trust the journey and start planning ahead.

UPDATE:  I will be removing a couple of photos from a post I did on Santa Monica, a few weeks ago, and hopefully the post will be less discomfiting to those concerned.

5 thoughts on “The Road to 65, Mile 261: Trusting the Journey

  1. I’m having trouble formulating a response to this — you’ve hardly been home long enough to establish a comfortable home, a solid support system, and it seems to me that the same will happen elsewhere too. Beyond that, I will work on an email response that is a little deeper and thoughtful…


    • Those things occur to me, as well. The biggest matter with which I need to deal, is the assurance of my mother’s safety. I’m not so pompous, as to think I, alone, can provide such, but I have to be ready to make the effort. It’s probably true that I would be more justified in feeling unsettled, if I were to actually stay put somewhere for a year, or three.


  2. I have friends who are deciding what they want to do. She’s fully retired and he has less than two years to go and was recently let go from his job. They’ve been looking into live-in caretaking jobs, some of which sound quite attractive. Since you’re not absolute about your current destination, it’s something to think about. It would be a roof over your head while you investigate possibilities.


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