Other doors open

Today I am home, doing laundry and working on some web sites and playing mah jong when I can squeeze in a minute of slacker time.

I was also waiting for a telephone call.  I had been offered a job by a volunteer organization, writing monthly articles for a their volunteer of the month.  I was queried about my willingness to do this  some time ago, but I have not given it much though, especially since I was experiencing technical difficulties with the whole pinning my hopes on the stars and all that.  So, I was pleasantly surprised to receive an e-mail about it yesterday and a telephone discussion was tentatively scheduled for sometime this afternoon.  Again, hopes remain unpinned.

It is a non-paying gig and I am fine with that, because it is only a few days work each month and I get to set my own schedule, except for the newspaper deadlines.  Someone within the organization will be choosing the honorees, I will conduct the interviews, write the articles and handle the contact with the newspaper.  I can do that.

It will be nice to have the opportunity to write for a newspaper again and whilst these kinds of interviews can be a struggle for the person being interviewed, I can handle and do that, too.

So, anyway, the person just called and she will be giving me the contact information for August's VOM in a few days.

Then, she asked me if I had heard about the new service at the blank-places.  I told her that I had, and she asked me how I knew about it and I told her that the director of the city program came to talk to me about it before they had the grant.  "Oh," she said, "Well, the mayor's office sent me a message that they are in need of volunteers and asked me to find some for them.  The service is beginning on Monday and they do not have volunteers." 

I did not say anything because there is nothing to say.  That program director and I spoke about me volunteering for them and he chose not to contact me, which can only mean that not only did I not get the other thing, but I am, in addition, not a suitable volunteer.  I should be upset about this, at least a little bit, but I am not.  I am fine with it.  Crazy.

Next, she asked me if I had any time that I could give to her for this service and I told her that I did not think that I had any time available.

In this moment, this exact location in time and space, they are a little strapped for helpers, but I know, they know, hell, everyone knows that they and the program are going to be fine.  Really, just fine.

And, then, this other thing.  The one about one of my sisters.  I write so damn much that I cannot remember what or where I might have spewed stuff, but she is one of the more damaged ones of us sibs.  That might not be entirely true, but she is definitely the one who acts out the most.  She is in a hospital in the South, recovering from a life-changing event that she orchestrated.  As part of her usual practice, she expected me to come and rescue her when the worst was over and, well, I am not doing that.  I talk to her on the telephone all the time,  just did, as a matter of fact, and she is getting better and tells me that the past several months have been a time for her to grow and learn, her words, and that she is grateful for the chances she now has, again, her words.  She also reports that my refusal to rescue this time is part of that for her.  I am not sure if that is true or something she thinks that she needs to say to me.  Either way, it is none of my business and I am glad to leave it at that.  She will be released from the hospital to a transitional facility or whatever it is called, in a few weeks.  When she is, I plan to visit her there, although I have not shared that with her.  Too much pressure for everyone, me for certain and I am just guessing about how that news would be for her.  Another thing that I am perfectly happy to just let be.

All these choices that we have.  What to do.  What not to do.  Who to care about or still care about but leave behind.  Trying to stay on our own path.  Not judge other people and their choices.  It is all so fucking hard to do.  You know, if you do not have a sense of something larger than yourself, I cannot imagine how you can trust in anything, not choices or people, the world, your community, even yourself.  The world is a terrifying place when all you have is your flesh.  I know.