The Fire

I looked at Lauren the other day and said, " We're really doing it."
She knew what we were doing.  She just smiled while she was doing some routine task in the barn.  We were living the good life.  We'd just rebuilt our home, our kids are perfect, our commitment to each other continues to pass every test. We were making sound choices.  We were leaving ourselves "Chronic Presents."  A Chronic Present is my idea of "a stitch in time saves nine."  Paying off the tractor early was a Chronic Present.  Leaving an extra diet Dr. Pepper in the fridge is a Chronic Present.  Another Chronic Present is cleaning up before you have to.   All trees are Chronic Presents.

In reality, we were really doing it.  We had trimmed our lives down to the basics and we focused on them.  We benefited, our kids benefited, we were doing everything right.

 About 9 months ago, I quit taking citalopram, an SSRI (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor?) known as celexa or it's mirror image, lexapro.  I did great, if anything, I got happier.  I quit my sleeping pill, trazodone shortly thereafter.  Right before I quit the medications, I quit a job.  My job was to educate students about a countywide environmental initiative.  The administration was inept.  I had been there for about three years when finally I realized I was letting them screw me over at every turn because I wanted to do the work as a service anyway.  So I quit.   I could never have quit that job drunk.  When I'm drunk, I don't have enough self worth to demand anything.  In AA  (Thanks for coming.), I learned narcissism and low self esteem are two sides of the same coin. More on that later.  Now right before that, my house burned down.  And right before the fire, I had a long stretch of good times and sobriety.  I credit the positivity of that stretch of time to the new adventure my family was on; we had a new house, a new farm, a new way of life, who wouldn't be content?  I was forfeiting the Rat Race.  I planned on teaching enough to pay bills and put the majority of my energy into my new simple life.  I've wished for self sufficiency since I was 12 years old.  My parents got me a tiller for my 13th birthday!  I was on my way.  A few goats for milk, a flock of chickens for eggs, whatever else we can grow when Mother Earth allows it.  And that's pretty close to how it was going.  We were immune to greed and distraction. The phrase "self actualization" comes to mind.

The Fire
Drifting off to sleep, 12:30 AM Dec. 19th.
"If I pretend to be asleep, I'll fall asleep before Lauren and she'll deal with that new kitten."
  Lauren whispered, "Oh Daddy..."  With a slow "oh" and a fearful "daddy."
Within seconds I examined the attic and I realized that there was absolutely nothing I could do to fix it.  But, wait! I know science stuff. I'm strong. I'm smart. I'm creative, "Surely a hose could reach.. No, it's frozen.  Maybe buckets? Impossible."
Lauren had already roused all the children and had them loaded into the car while I took my time.  She's like that. My head was just clear enough to know that this would hurt soon, but the pain hadn't set in yet.  It was getting dangerous, so I did a quick look around the house for something, anything really to save.  My impotence was overwhelming.  "I can't do anything about this"  Frustration and loss and self pity tore at me hard.  Ben's blanket!  In the act of saving our lives, Lauren skipped the details like blankets and paraphernalia.  I don't think even grizzly bear moms are this effective. She's like that.  So, I saved Ben's blanket.  The same one he's always had.  The one he left at the river house overnight when he was three because he was a "big boy."  The one I had to sew a new silky back onto because of cats and/or toddlers.  My quilt (more accurately, Lauren's quilt, more on that later) was draped on me because, of course, I'd only dressed in overalls.

Guilt-Shame-Depression-Drinking
It's my fault.  I read about a guy who took his family into the deep Alaskan bush to trap furs and live off the land.  He lost a daughter in a canoe accident.
It's my fault, nobody burns wood anymore.
It's my fault, I burned too much green wood.
I don't recommend this drinking game but it's called- drink every time you feel bad.  If you do try it out, you'll find it kinda snowballs.
I got out of it, but it took a week. I had a house to rebuild.  I'm practical enough to have known that was my only move.
I could blame the contractor!
It's his fault, they joined the pipe wrong.
It's his fault, it was a seriously crappy job, honestly.
If I just blame someone else, I'll feel better.  Why do humans work this way anyway?  Wouldn't we be better off if we just fixed our problems?- More on that later, hopefully.

Ritual
So, I found Ritual.  Ritual is milking goats at sunrise.  Ritual is Food Pantry work.  Ritual is a morning walk.  Ritual is weeding veggies.  Ritual is coming home from work to work on the house rebuild. Ritual is a cactus garden that you actually keep alive.  I also rediscovered Gratitude.  Gratitude is a real state of mind.

Self Esteem
Whoa! What a ride.  When you work your ass off for a year and exercise and eat from the farm, you will look healthy!  I offer a guarantee on that statement.  More muscle, more testosterone, more confidence, chin ups, boxing, and I look in my bedroom mirror every night way too long.     A year of sobriety ain't too bad for the brain either.  Recently, I've been noticing that I'm sharp like I was in elementary school.  I feel brighter than usual.  This is a great time to re examine my life with fresh perspective.  And I do.   My kids are flourishing.  Lauren and I are devoted to our family!  I could brag all day on this, those that need convincing wouldn't believe us anyway.

Really Doing It (the long haul).
So I looked at her recently and said, "We're really doing it."
We've been living as if money doesn't exist.  We're doing the things that need to be done for the sake of the work itself.  The ground is fertile here for growing children and making memories.  Lauren is solidly committed to our quest to "do it right."  Somehow, she's able to transition everyday from school to me easily, she's like that.

In August, when I quit the recycling job and started regular Food Pantry duty, I told Lauren that I would not under any circumstances take on another job for a whole year, that's August 2018.  That was her recommendation because she was worried that I was fretting about finding more work.  Plus, after a year like this, I probably deserved a break.  Things have changed.