Wander-less?

I have been in a wandering mode for a number of years.  Mentally wandering, attempting to discover either my mistakes or a new goal in life or looking for something and not really knowing what that something was.  Physically wandering because nothing has felt like home, or felt safe enough to relax or be completely myself.  Physically trying on new locations, new situations to see if a 6 month house sit fit - nope too long a time alone, without communication, with robberies it just wasn´t safe.  Physically re-connecting with my parents to find out that I didn´t know them nor did they know me.  I had a good time with them until one of them got ill and a lot of things changed, I tried to find a solution to what they told me where their needs. Unfortunately something wasn´t satisfactory on some level and they changed plans.  I got a lovely goodbye hug and even a kiss on the cheek as they left my life for the final time.  I physically changed locations again, perhaps searching for a family that would accept me and definitely knowing that the choice to move into an indigenous village in Costa Rica would allow me to see who I was from a different perspective because I had very little Spanish language and no indigenous language.  These people where going to experience me for who I was by my actions and not by my language -- you know the talk is cheap idea... I jumped in with two left feet and struggled with my sadness of loosing my family one more time, having no one to confide in, being in a very different culture --- very different culture.  I learned a lot those 2 years and felt like it was home - just the relationship I was in was not working for me, it was more giving and teaching and work - there wasn´t much space for me to relax and no one for me to lean on.  Physical change was in order again as a 2 week house sitting opportunity came up so I took it - only to struggle with the owners constant changing of plans and of their minds about timing and no water and the added expense of running someone elses home and paying to feed their dogs and then I got bit by some bug and a hole developed in my ankle overnight, transportation was difficult in that location and I had to make a change for my healths sake.  I keep learning that my health IS my wealth.  I moved closer to town, rented an apartment and began to relax, the ex-boyfriend tagged along, which I allowed because he wasn´t too annoying although in town it was odd because there was a lot of flirting going on around me and not with me!  I started to get bored and was looking for a place to settle into a bit more when an old friend from NYC began talking to me about living on her property - making it my home  It sounded like a win-win, I am the human presence on a piece of land where she will live in the future.  I do some exploring, and let her know if the property manager is actually doing their job or not and I get to create a home where I can live the rest of my life, just as long as it doesn´t cost her or spoil her view from the top of the hill.... no prob, start working HARD put blood sweat and tears into this, my home.  My home.  When she comes she will draw up some legal paperwork so I have some general protection because it is not my property I just have use of it.  Then she comes with heavy suitcases and other stuff in mind and major illnesses and I´m living rustically, like with mud and plastic roof and .... I forgot how other people live in cities and in cultured lifestyles and I had culture shock with her and her constant texting on a cellphone and the neediness of not knowing how to get by or live with nature (and off grid)... and the ex-boyfriend was helping and the language issues and .... I had to do a border hop ALONE. When I returned I told her I could not continue this way and without some legal right to use her property I was at risk of being homeless again --- yes I have been homeless in the USA, in shelters, in campgrounds etc -- I had to move out - let my dream go - again (I wrote a poem once called Death of a Dream).  I couldn´t think, I could hardly walk.  I became so depressed.  I took a tent and a backpack and stayed on one beach or another or yet another for 3 or 4 months.  The ex-boyfriend found an education program that excited him and he felt passionate about so I helped him get settled into and then I looked for a volunteer opportunity with room and board and found a lovely Garden with an older man who grew up in Maine of all places and had lived in Costa Rica for nearly 30 years.  I was very depressed and it was hard for me to feel very helpful although I cooked nearly all the meals for the help and family and was allowed plenty of time to just vegetate in between.  I couldn´t break through the sadness and after a couple months decided that maybe I needed to go home - except I don´t have a home.  Well, I´d like to visit my family but they don´t want to hear from me (I was told at my father´s funeral) I thought about breaking the silence that I had agreed to and calling them anyway then remembered how angry they were and decided against it. (and no I don´t understand what all happened and I am learning to not mentally question it anymore, I will likely never know).  Knowing that I would likely be homeless if I returned to the US, I decided to hike the Appalachian Trail which I did for 2 months and yes some athletic people will say I was slow, and so be it.  Jeez I was depressed, crying my way up some mountains, praying my way through lightening and hail storms and learning that I DO NOT LIKE TO BE ALONE! I tried to visit with my son and be part of his new baby being born event only to be met with a strange brick, or was it more thick than that, wall of a baby´smama who didn´t even want to know me.....  And I had reverse culture shock too. I walked away from that with my backpack and attempted to visit the only sister who spoke to me then only to be met with issues from her significant other...leave again, prepared or not.  Sleep in a leaky car, with bad brakes - help a niece who actually said thank you and sends a pleasant note once in a while.  (I won´t bother the sister anymore - it probably would compromise her loyalties oh yeah and remember I´m dead to them anyway)  Then a horrible emergency experience with the car, which I sold, and a nephew´s new family.... Homeless is way better than this so off to a city with a shelter (darn again!) and I made some lovely friends in that city that I do stay in touch with although I couldn´t justify making that home it was so cold and just wasn´t home... a quick re-try at my son´s request of his situation led me back to Costa Rica:  I have been happier here than anywhere else in my life.  (and the doctor said it was better for my physical health and old asthma problems as well)

I intended to travel more when I got back to Central America, thinking that other countries may be less expensive and I might find that ´thing´ I have been looking for.  I re-visited the idea of living or renting in cities I was familiar with as well the idea of  the homestead I started on the other woman´s land only to be met with a repeat of no documentation, and no security even in a possible rental situation and to top it off, after spending yet more money, to find out that one of the locals who helped me build and did odd jobs for me and who told me when someone robbed me or was poking around - I found out that even tho I paid him, he is the one who stole from me...it was my last straw.  I love his wife as a sister AND I can no longer trust him - darn - change mind quickly.  I visited with friends and kept my eyes and ears open for whatever.... and the Garden situation came back up.

I am happily staying and helping out here.  I have a couple big projects planned, some has to do with plant and fruit use and research and stuff and another is to make a kitchen greenhouse garden with raised beds for those oft daily used kitchen necessities like tomatoes, cukes,herbs, lettuce...why are we buying this stuff? I ask.


 On a personal note, I want to be more settled (and maybe even married one day - keep the dream alive I say) so I can develop my friendships, visit more, have people visit me, share more of my life with the people I know and love.  I want to be more productive in the community and society. I love traveling as much as I love coming home to some place that is familiar, where I can be myself completely, without feeling as though I need to answer to someone or walk on those proverbial egg shells so I can continue to have a place to sleep, which happens when you volunteer or stay with other people, house sit or even rent.  


Comments

  1. nicely put sister, i think there are a lot of us out there whose experiences are not that much difference, actually quite similar in varying degrees. although i have made the west coast home for the last three years and after the tourist season leave i still don't feel as i have a home and have moments of great deep sadness only to be replaced by the daily grind of making a living of which i loath. yet i keep my head up in hopes of finally finding "IT" sending you love and strength, keep smiling

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    Replies
    1. Hang in there and when you get to Costa Rica, look me up!

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  2. Lesa!

    I read your story, although it was not THAT easy for me (because of english- you know..., but I just love english)
    and I ended up crying a little bit. I've never heard such a story and it fascinates me how you just keep on searching and getting to know yourself.
    And I found that we are similar in a way.
    I hope, you are doing good right now and I send you a lot of love from Germany !

    Regards and hugs from the other Lisa (who couldn't wait for going home;) )

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    Replies
    1. OMGosh Lisa, I have a translator installed at the top right side of the blog page. Click on a flag -
      German is there! and you can read in your language!

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  3. Lesa, you have found HOME finally with our tribe here in the desert. You never need to be alone again, unless you want to. Now rest, relax, and recreate! My family makes no sense to me either... and I am so happy to have found my new tribal family. I instantly felt at home when I found Bob and the other vandwellers at the Slabs three years ago. It seems like that was when my life really began.

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