Each year, except during the recent plague, my high school hosts Alumni Weekend in early June. I waited until my 20th reunion year to return, as it took me that long to feel confident enough to stand next to the very accomplished, financially and professionally successful peers from my past. This is year 38, so I was not among the honored decades – 20, 30, 40, and so on. Fountain Valley School is a very small, private college preparatory school, mostly boarding students. I was a day student back in the early 80s. I did not know at that time how much of a privilege it was to be there. Visiting so many years later I have flashes of memories as I stroll along paths, and tour familiar spaces.
On my 20th year reunion I happened to be married (not legally at the time, thank goodness) to a woman who I would later discover was a con-artist, thief, and liar. She was charming and charismatic, told great stories, and used these skills to grift lots of money from me, and later others – seniors and recovery-group members. That’s another story. Perhaps too long for just a post on an unread blog.
This past week I stayed in Colorado Springs with my “It’s Complicated” man. We discussed a lot of what would and would not work between us. He doesn’t want a dog. Ever. I dunno – that’s something I won’t compromise about. Plus, there’s no room for me in his very full, busy existence. That should be enough of a message to me, but sometimes I’m daft. Also, this is another topic better explored in a future post or private journal entry.
Driving out to the campus, south of town, lush, green land fills my heart with longing and regret. I miss Colorado, and I’ve made choices in life that make it difficult to return there – professional, economic, emotional. As a kid I wanted so deeply to leave and explore the world. It didn’t occur to me that life would be so fucking difficult. Now having been on the planet for a while I wish I could just resettle up against the mountains, in the foothills where I spent childhood and later years. Perhaps I’m just more sensitive or have less grit than others. Maybe it’s my genetic predisposition for this grating combo of melancholia, dissatisfaction, and restlessness. I believe, also, that sometimes life just goes the way it goes.
I’m not a billionaire or a supermodel. I have a hard time staying motivated at less than satisfying employment, but am grateful to have a career in which I can learn and grow.
I’ll be an excellent retiree someday, as there are many things I’d rather do than make money for a boss or institution. Again, that’s a conversation for another post. Or book. Or memoir about all the things I haven’t done.
As I mentioned, attending Fountain Valley was a privilege. My family was comfortable, in that upper middle class 80s way, but never truly wealthy. Many of my classmates came from American royalty or similar strata. Many also were spectacularly bright, ambitious, and motivated to succeed, and have done that. Others of us have lived like more average humans, seeking meaning, connection, growth, and/or oblivion in some manageable combination.
I live in Albuquerque now, in an odd Summer rental. The owners are hunters, so every wall has antlered skulls, a couple with all the fur and facial features still attached. The neighborhood is filled with brilliant, fragrant, flowering gardens. This is not my home.
Prior to this stop I lived in my RV for three years, spending long periods in stillness and solitude, roaming now and then. I’m fortunate to work remotely and be able to uproot as needed.
I spent last year in Truth or Consequences – soaking in the hot springs, singing with friends, petting Dagny and Thelma, the dogs Roger and I adopted 10 years ago, and living simply. Slowly.
In September last year I roamed with a friend to Florida and back. This Spring I visited Costa Rica with Truth or Consequences Yoga friends. There is deep, rich life available in this quirky desert village.
Recently I sold Frida, the RV. Now I feel it’s time to settle for a while, somewhere, where I can connect and contribute. I could buy a home in Truth or Consequences. I could rent a place in Albuquerque or Colorado Springs.
Or perhaps I’ll buy another RV and roam.
Frida went to her new owners on Friday, May 12th, 2023. Surely she’ll experience new adventures and be well-loved.
Explore, Create, Inquire, Seek, Share, Learn 
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