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Mindfulness

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Hopalong:
That "thin, uncomfortable feeling...."

Trust it.

Hops

lighter:
Hi Hops:

The writer gal just shared the chapter of her book, written during her stay on the island. 

I'm shocked, truthfully.
 She leads with imagery.   
Lots and lots of imagery....
 about trash.  :shock:

Trash on the beach near my place.  :shock:

Trash on the beach in front of my cottage.   :shock:

 Trash on in the yard, in tree roots, under larger trash.  :shock:

I finally had to laugh...
so.. much... trash.
 For a second, I thought she might be joking, honestly.

And about the time I started laughing, she connected the trash on the beach to the trash found around her father's body, after coon hunters discover him, after he's washed up on the bank of the river he fell into after shooting himself in the head.  She writes that the trash, on the island, and on the bank of that river, look identical to her.

There was a flip flop, in particular, she refers to through the chapter. It could have been her father's flip flop. One he wore. One by his body.  One on the beach that perhaps he wore IF he had escaped his fate, moved to the island and lived without her. She wishes she could find him, an old man now, like Hemingway, and forgive him for leaving her.  Tell him it's OK that he found an escape, even if it meant he couldn't be with her.  Talk to him, then slap him for leaving her.  She's conflicted, and it's heartbreaking to read. 

I forgot about the trash for a minute, it was so sad.

 Then, on the final pages, she brings it back to trash. 

This time she's describing "beautiful garbage" she's found at the "abandoned shack" down the beach from the cottage.  It's interesting garbage, I admit, since I always ignore the cottage, and the squatter.  Lawn mowers under a rusted out fridge, next to burned pots, juxtaposed against the turquoise waters of the Atlantic..... she's snapping away, taking pictures, loving everything about this,  when the squatter, I swear I told her about weeks before her trip, makes his appearance, startling her and her friend quite badly.


At this point, in the chapter, she stopped writing, which was frustrating, bc I KNOW what happens next.  I'm curious how she's going to write about it.  Really.
 
The long and the short of it, was the guy tried to tell her she had something in her teeth.... he tried to use his finger to get it OFF her teeth, like a child might, and his finger was in her mouth before she could react.  Action IS faster than reaction, always has been.

::nodding::.

When she finally tells me the story, we were standing in her kitchen enjoying a glass of wine while dinner's cooking.  I'd waited for 2 weeks to hear this story, btw.  She'd texted the first morning she was at the cottage.... "the squatter had tried to touch her friend, then had touched her."

Then she went black ops.  NOTHING more. :shock:  She leaves me hanging with only those words. 

So, she's telling this story in her kitchen, stops talking, and starts acting out what happens after he pops up, and focuses ON HER.  She lifts her land, as though it's HIS hand, and moves it toward her face.  She's moving really slowly, btw.... so slowly I'm shocked when she points one finger at her open mouth, and continues slowly heading that way..... and then it hits me!  He puts his finger INTO her mouth, and this seems so funny to me!

My knees give out, and I'm trying not to pee myself on her kitchen floor in fit of giggles. 

HOW... did he manage to get... his fingers IN... and I look up, try to ask... How? and off we go on another round of giggles.  Over and over again. 

Now... I don't understand WHY this happened TO her.   I do understand it happened, and it strikes me as hysterically funny, bc it happened at this super slow pace.   While the guy was chattering away like a monkey at her... about what he was doing.  Trying to DO something.  In her mouth. 

I was worried he touched her sexually, or violently, but this slow, gentle movement INTO her mouth... with one finger, like a baby trained to touch things with "one finger" which is what my mother trained all her Grandchildren to do.....
just... very childlike... the way she was portraying it.... and so darned slow, and non threatening.


Turns out she had a big hunk of lipstick between her front teeth, and he was trying to help her.  She figured it out when she saw herself in the mirror at the marina, where the dock master explained the squatter wasn't a dangerous guy... he was just a guy who chose to squat in a shack with a million dollar view.   He has family who bring him food, would provide housing for him, and a nice bed. 

So, once we get over the giggles, find our wine glasses, and move ourselves in front of the fire to call my sister, share the story, and giggle again, SHE TELLS ME HER FRIEND ARMED HERSELF WITH A BIG BOARD and prepared to bash the squatter in the back of the head IF he moved in an aggressive manner.

This is such a familiar place.... me worrying about things I have no control over, but feel responsible for.  I mean... I give a wide birth to that shack, with the squatter, and his whistling animal noises as I pass.  How can I control what Airbnb renters do, or don't do?  Or what the squatter does, for that matter? I can't.

This is a very familiar feeling... trying to control things that aren't within my control.  I can't control the squatter, or Airbnb renters, or their response to the squatter, who's harmless, but appears unwashed, and odd... particularly if he pops out unexpectedly, or whistles from the shadows of the shack as you pass while shell seeking your way down the beach, children in tow, or if the renters seek him out, or if he seeks them out.

I know everyone is thinking SELL THE PLACE!  Go!  Run... NOWWWWWWW! 

And my feelings around that are.... not positive, timeline wise.  I know I won't enjoy it, and it won't be over quickly, but that's the plan, to enter into an agreement with a crooked realtor, who jerks me around terribly, gives me lists of things to do, then blames me when it doesn't sell in a timely manner, and offers to give it away to one of her friends, who offers to take it off my hands for half what it's worth, which is what I did with the condo on Beech Mountain.  God, I hated that place, very hard to find workers and get materials to that job site too.  I will put the cottage on the market, while trying not to upset my island renter, perhaps offering him money to help show the place, and more if he finds the buyer, or helps get it sold, but....

I feel like my embracing my inability to control  this, or anything, would be helpful.  Releasing the desire to know what comes next, would be helpful.  Accepting that all worldly material things are meaningless, and this too shall pass... would be helpful.

Thoughts?

Lighter 

Twoapenny:
Wow, Lighter, you have such a colourful life!  Wow.  So much going on.

I'm very out of my depth with real estate/financial matters so I'm not sure my thoughts on the situation will be of any help.  But - for what it's worth -

Is the squatter on your land or just somewhere nearby? If he's on your land then it will likely be an issue but if he isn't then it's really no different to trying to control what their meal is like in a nearby restaurant or whether or not the weather is nice when they stay.

Personally I value quiet, calm, drama free, stress free living over material possessions all day long - but I don't know how to suggest that is cultivated in other people.  I don't know, maybe you could try putting a price on the stress and hassle and time that something causes you and see if that makes it still seem valuable?  Like how much money would feel like enough to make the stress worthwhile, or the time involved sorting everything out and so on?  I don't know if that makes sense - I might have misunderstood what you said about accepting wordly things are meaningless means you want to get rid of the place?

And do you mean you're definitely selling or thinking about doing it?  Have you got someone staying in it at the minute or is it empty?  Personally I'm a fan of streamlining and simplifying, whichever form that takes.  I think you deserve some peace and quiet in your life, Lighter.  And some fun!  For no other reason than it's fun :) xx

lighter:
Tupp: 

There's a squatter living a ways down the beach, in a shack, between my cottage and the marina.  It appears abandoned, but it's not.  Anyone walking by is drawn to look at it... it's interesting, but the squatter will engage if given a chance.  That makes me feel bad to write, but he told my sister and her dd that he owned the marina AND wanted to do some kissin with my niece. 

::shaking head::.  Nothing aggressive, but... kissing? He's unwashed, and rather wild in appearance.  Think castaway with heavy dirt caked dreadlocks.... and you have it.

I think you're right about putting a price on the trouble and chaos this place brings to my life.  That's a good way to approach a sales price.

I have a local living in the guest house, and he's employed elsewhere, handling security, meeting workers, hiring workers, and overseeing some of the work.  He meets visitors when he can, and I'm trying to get him involved in handling housekeeping. He already handles opening up the storm shutters, and handing off keys, and does a good job with that.  I have a yearly contract with him so he can't claim squatter's rights, which was a consideration.

Maybe I'll put a long term renter in the cottage, and pay them to show it to possible buyers.  That way there'll be consistent dollars coming in, someone THERE all the time, and no worries about pubic hairs, dead bugs, and dusty baseboards with Airbnb renter reviews.  I wonder if I could rent out ONE of the bedrooms, and still have family use it when they want.  Honestly... it sounds like more chaos.   It IS more chaos. 

About the excitement.... I long for tranquility, and peace.  This kind of excitement creates anxiety. 

My girls are doing OK right now.  Oldest dd just had a rough patch... I didn't know what it was, and struggled to listen, and be present without trying to fix, or name it.  As the days went on, I pulled back, told her trusted her, she should trust her instincts, and I'd support her in any way she felt she needed.  Amazingly, she flipped back to her old self, and now I'm focused on doing things WITH her when I try to speak to her, side by side.  One day it was designing functional pugwear.  We made a duct tape form of her chubby little body... SO CUTE!  That's the kind of excitement I'm up for; )

Today I paid attention to how music affected interaction with her.  It was very helpful, and dd agreed music is a social lubricant.... if only bc it's a distraction.  If you read the article you'll see it's much more than that, and I tend to agree. 

Thanks again for advice on putting a price on troubles with property.  VERY helpful!

Lighter

Twoapenny:
That's nice that DD pulled herself back without mum having to tell her what to do :)  You've taught her well, Lighter :)

Maybe brainstorm all possible scenarios for the beach house.  I work much better with everything on paper, in front of me.  When big stuff is going on I have mind maps all over the wall; it helps me think and helps me see connections and work out potential problems.  So maybe work through all the possible scenarios and see what comes out as best for you - you personally, not the kids, other family members, financial matters, history, work already done and so on, but just what would be easiest and simplest for you.  And it might be that option isn't a practical one but at least it will give you an idea of what you really need and want at the moment and maybe you can then find an option that doesn't take you too far off that path? I don't know what (if any) legal or financial ramifications there might be with any of it but I do think you deserve some peace and relaxation rather than another problem to keep solving so I hope there is a way for the situation to become an easier one for you xx

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