There are times when I think I could just sit at the desk and stare at the fountain outside for hours. Since we recently moved, one of our balconies now overlooks a giant fountain in the main parking lot. I'm not usually a water person. I appreciate water and all, but it's not my focus; I'm an earth sign. My son is a water baby. Still, it's hypnotic to watch the way the water rises up and continually falls down in a never-ending rush, spraying out over the three tiers and cascading back into the pool at the bottom. The sound itself entwines the senses, sort of like white noise, blocking out all sorts of random real world noise.
I'm pondering bad karma. A friend of mine told me I've accumulated quite a bit of it here in Arizona, that I'm not supposed to be here. Here, as in Arizona, or here, as in Mesa/Phoenix? It's a fair question, and I do believe she has a point. Since we've been out here, we've experienced bad vibe after bad vibe: constant financial distress, many problems with the cars--each incident right after another, dissatisfaction in our marriage, my husband's job woes, my job woes, etc. The only thing that's worked out has been (finally) the service for our son.
It's quite a conundrum. I love Arizona, I love the area we're in. I love the fact that we can drive two hours in any direction and hit something really neat. I've always felt a connection with the place--although maybe that's more with different areas. Like Tombstone, for instance. Or Sedona.
On the flip side, my hubby has been unhappy here nearly since he got here. With the bad things that have happened, I can't say as I blame him.
We have a history of moving out here. We got here in October 07. Moved two years later. August 2011, and we just got into a new place. Two years seems to be the key where we keep moving. Well, as we just now moved I don't see us going in the immediate future.
But if we were to move, where to? We had thought of Las Vegas before my son got his services, as some of my family is up there. Kansas, while the place where the rest of our families reside, is the last place I want to go back to. I hate Kansas; sorry, but it's not where I want to be. Love all the people, but not the actual living there.
So what's the right answer then? If we don't belong here, then where do we belong?
All I know is I am sick and tired of trials and tribulations. I want to rest. I want to relax. I want to be able to enjoy life instead of surviving it. Those moments of respite are thirsted after like--pun intended--water in the desert. I crave stability, peace and an ability to enjoy things. I don't want an ulcer. Or an aneurism. I feel like I'm going to have both sometimes.
It can't be time, though. Of course, I've never been good at reading signs, omens, that sort of shtick. Usually things have to smack me in the face before I get it.
I'm adrift right now, in so many ways. I don't feel like there's a good port anywhere. (Erg, sea metaphors.)
Maybe the truth is, there is no safe harbor.