I used to know an old cowboy who was also a Deputy Sheriff. He was big man who sometimes did law enforcement the old way - with a gunbelt and a Steston on horse back. Picture a quieter, low key version of John Wayne. He'd stop in to visit the ranch I was working on, sometimes to hunt quail or just shoot the breeze. When it was time to go he'd say, "I'm done bein' here". I was always struck by the good humor and the clarity of that statement.
After months of debate and delay Susan and I have decided that we're "done bein' here" in Santa Barbara. And in that decision, all things become clear and we're dashing away from the starting line as if the starter fired a pistol.
But last night I was visited by ghosts. A series of mental knocks and dragging chains that woke me and tormented me at 3:00 AM. What about the career success I promised myself but never achieved here? What about the business I started and built in Santa Barbara, only to watch it deflate in the current economic calamity? What about this new venture of farming? The ghosts were swirling and stirring up my fears of failure. Feelings of remorse arrived with each review of my past. The ghosts said, "Look at all the ways you have failed!" What about the time I wasted instead of building success? What makes me think I can DO this?
The intention to move has been ours for years. The physical move is now beginning. I've just discovered that I'm not quite ready yet to saddle up. I've got a lot of work to do and a long way to go before I can face the spirits of fear and doubt and confidently say to myself, "I'm done bein' here."
TODAY'S STREET PARKED CLASSIC