Sad snowballs

I'm back on my mountain, after a 10-day break visiting family and friends and trying to take care of some business.  I didn't see everyone I wanted to see, but I was energized and happy, and the weather was gorgeous.  Reactions to my current life fell into one of three camps.

1.  "Are you crazy?"  Move back here, live in my basement, get a job with benefits!  We miss you.

It seems black and white
But if you look more closely
It's complicated.

2.  "This is a good thing for you, an opportunity for growth."  Your health seems improved, and all the stuff back here is your past:  look to the future.  Stay in New Mexico for awhile.

3. "Hmmmm."  (nodded head, non-committal expression.)

Camp Number 3 is probably allied to Camp Number 1, actually.

It's interesting how my moods are swinging since my return. Mainly, I am just going through the day. At the end of it I am exhausted, but I find myself waking in the middle of the night.  I go outside and check out the stars:  where's Orion, is there a meteor, is there a cloud cover?  Later in the cycle, I watch the sunrise.

But I'm not thinking, or at least, not consciously. So I don't feel like I'm growing or, even at the very minimum, processing.

A year ago at this time, I left D. And I had several local friends help me through that. Most of them are no longer friends, and I wonder what I did to drive them away. It makes me sad, and I feel like a user....I accepted the help assuming I could repay it some time, as friends do, but now I can't. T said that in a year I wouldn't recognize myself.  He's right, but he's also not around to enjoy it.

Complementary:
Dark, light, hard, soft, firm, molded.
But we can't be friends

Now, I know that I am so much better off than I was a year ago, but I still feel numbed. And sad. I don't worry that I made the wrong choice, but I don't know where to go from here.  And various people and events are conspiring to make me recognize how much I'm flailing.  For example....

Yesterday I took E on a studio tour through La Cienega. En route she asked me if I have any plans for my future..am I going to get training or go to school? What is my career goal? It took me aback, because I'm not planning to have a career per se, and I don't have a goal yet. Should I?

I finally remembered that she thinks I am WAY younger than I am, and she also doesn't remember that this is a permanent situation for her at least...she's not going back to Oakland.

But I was still unsettled by her questions.  One of the aspects of dementia is that she will say whatever is in her mind.  It gives me pause:  how much of what she says is being thought by other people?  Why am I not thinking of these things myself? What are my plans? Being middle-aged doesn't mean I can potter around without a goal.

Which is why I spent the afternoon's walk channeling Andy Goldsworthy. It helped improve my mood a bit, at least.

When faced with mud trails,
Don't walk them. Make snow sculptures
And take their pictures.