waking up to this

I’ll tell you – this is me talking to my imaginary friend – having nearly no money has its disadvantages, but not working probably has even greater advantage. Sleepy crud wiped out of the eyes, sit on the cushion, coffees, a zillion books, pens and notebooks, my Pages and comfy clothes and just six steps up into the sweet, clean air of another day as if a birthday present.

I have come to a place where I will live in near-poverty rather than seek and subsequently accept a position of employment that isn’t “Me” today. A position for which I have interviewed the interviewers and determined that this (job) matters, this (job) is worthy, this (job) offers the experience to entirely value this very me, all these June ‘26 present ingredients of me into the cornucopia of what actually goes on – the fulfilling of important destinies – in and for which my very molecules have played some part. Other than that ( very job) I choose to eke out a rather quietly wild life within the (elusive) confines and boundaries of rent, food, and mandatory monthly expenses. As evidence of that possible promise, a couple of weeks ago I typed what follows in quotes, it points toward a place of frolicking for free:

“What if this very space is the whole world, I never step out and from this, everything, other than walking out into the sunshine and day and brilliant emerald green of all but Japanese Maples and Copper Beech, which glow and glow and glow on maybe forever, and so it’s all here in my room and it’s all there in the towering oneness of a Copper Beach. With 10,000 pencils and coloring crayons and all the joyous glee of a six-year all spinning out on the lawn, sneaking through the close-by patch of woods, ‘Hey kid, make sure you cross that fire road with yer eyes wide, wide open. We can’t go and be missing stuff, right?’ And meanwhile every book holds itself up as a high-five, and the phone doesn’t ring other than when it rings, and I can swear folks just don’t know what they’re missing, and, yeah, it’s that thank your lucky stars things, except what’s it mean when no one knows.

“Which is all about I don’t have to leave this basement space to have it all, and it’s only six steps up out into the sunny, thirsty world where – you know by now – I get to have it all.”