Walking back in this now familiar town, it turns out that I brought many of the selves with me. Do they all fit together to make one nice Karrie, or are they competing with each other, lost in the wilderness of identity? Crisp air, bright sunshine, leaves that are hanging on to orange, red and gold is the backdrop of my wandering. First to the outdoor store, and the allure of functional clothing with it's clean lines and built in warmth. Fabric to surround myself with that will embrace me and care for me. Today, it was a hat purchase that had me fired up. Me and hats - we have an ongoing argument. The hat wants to take away all distraction from my face, and my mind doesn't want to gaze at that face. Hats give me no choice. There it is, the 51 year old face with crow's feet and skin that is settling into the middle part of my next in a very relaxed sort of posing, big teeth that for some reason also seem to be migrating a bit leaving a sneaky new little gap in the middle, squinty eyes, prominent nose and then the ever-absent chin. "Hello FACE" as I snatch 99% of tried on hats off my head as quickly as possible. But today, in the comfort of the sturdy outdoors store, I found a fleece hat that I think I can work with. It seems to have some simple and forgiving qualities, and, the older I get, the more I appreciate a comfortable body temperature. Next stop, the consignment store. Big dogs and little dogs are around with their people, and I miss mine. Couples and women with their shopping companion bffs are all also around. Do I feel lonely? Am I lonely? I don't think I have time to be lonely, yet. I'm too busy thinking about how I used to feel on trips to tourist villages. I see remnants of my former self in the young women who ooooh and ahhhh about the lovely little Christmas decorations they could mount on their shiny, well dusted surfaces back home. Are they thinking about how their homes will look and feel during the holidays they way I used to? I'm not going to beat former, over the top, consumer self here, because I think I have always been on a quest to create a hospitable, warm, comforting environment around me but I just didn't know how to get at it the right way. Are purposes shaped by your environment? Could my hunger to provide nourishment of all kinds around me and the people I care about have been born from my Mother's introversion and fears? I think she was fearful of being discovered. I think she carried a great deal of shame and wanted to do the opposite of feathering an attractive nest that others would want to curl up in. I don't know the answer, but this calls to mind my first "real" vocational job at Lutheran Ministry in the Fenway. My job was to create just such an environment in the campus ministry apartment. Art von Au actually explained "hospitality" to me as a gift and a skill and a function. After all these years, I'm still trying to figure out if this is my gift and calling and if I can believe that it's legitimate. Any fantasies I do have of the future, come to think of it, do involve a smoking fireplace kind of atmosphere where some folks from some unknown "where" are wanting to be. Are they students? Are they alumni of a small liberal arts college? Are they art therapy clients? Are they farmhands?
Back to the consignment store. I was still looking for warmth and comfort and found a little piece of it there: a large, fleece! pancho. It is the perfect color, slateish brown, and a great size meaning big. It envelopes me and I love that. At this life moment where I should not be making any purchases, I have now purchased two fleece items, for myself. Well, at least I've found a way to fill the "guilty" requirement on this trip. Otherwise, I might not have been able to tolerate the beauty of this day and the circumstances that could quite possibly unfold with this dinner event I've planned for tonight (Keisers, Patti Digh, Laura Collins, Cyndi Briggs).
As I walked slowly through the other shops and down the streets of Black Mountain, I am an observer, mostly of myself. I remember how I used to feel drawn to trinkets and gifts. I remember the short-lived thrill of buying a card, a scarf or a mug even, or especially, when it was for someone else. I remember not worrying about the bank account while at the same time the intense guilt after considering or purchasing anything. This created a long standing dilemma of being a" have", but feeling like a" have not. "
In some ways, today is similar to recent days with tennis friends. Now, when I spend any time with the tennis ladies, I have such an odd self-concept. I wonder, do they see me the way the used to, or, has my change in status (marital, economic, employment) changed their perception of me? Can they see me straddling my self that awkwardly navigated her way into the country club life and my self who has found her way (back?) to being a richly impoverished single woman? How would I be treated if they saw my house, my dogs, and my bed when I lay my head down each night between Jack Russell and Pyranees!? And honestly, even moreso, how do they see me without a husband, or a boyfriend? How do I see me?
Last night, I saw "The Help" with Joseph. It was great to see it a second time and now with him. The sad reality of the culture I was plopped into at birth is important for the kids' sense of history. It was not lost on Joseph. I wish they were both here today. I love being with them more than anyone in the world. Last night when he was getting out of the car, he asked me to do him a favor: "would you Ask Beth if she would still consider editing my book?" It is moments like those that that leave me satisfied and so grateful.
How is this all related? It has something to do with how I am going to choose everyday to be in this tiny part of the world. Maybe it does have something to do with 'fractals."
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