“We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.”
- Joseph Cambell
While my mind is busy reeling with ideas for land, subsistance, getting off the grid - I am having to fight for control and reign it in. Always in the past the dreams have overwhelmed me and I have grown frustrated, despairing at the distance to the mark. With any project, any goal, we all want to get to the fun part. I'm not saying that living a different life is going to be easy, but getting rid of this one really is the hardest part.
The temptation is to dump it all and walk away. Unfortunately, I realize to be successful in this endeavor, the practical matters have to be dealt with first. My brain is reeling with dreams of the future, but my hands are tied to matters of the present. This is where it always gets sticky. This is where I always end up sitting down and giving up. It always seems too daunting.
Ahhh, grasshopper. Do the words of your father sing in your mind?
"How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time."
The first step is really difficult. I've known what needs to be done for a very long time. I've hesitated for many reasons. One of them has been the emotional state of my husband. It's not necessarily that he disagrees with me, but every time I see the fearful look in his eyes I hesitate - my wish not to bring him any discomfort leaving me in a stale-mate.
We have to sell the house.
With a mortgage near $245,000.00 at 7% fixed our total payment every month exceeds $1,800.00. Any time I look at the math my spirit crumbles under the weight. Then the questions come - as I've been told they should. Where will we live? This one binds me consistently. How are you planning for your future? How much will you get for it? Do you even have any equity to get you through to the next step? Scary questions.
Then, as if Congress has taken up residence in my head, I start getting bright ideas. Well - why don't you pull the equity out before you sell it to pay off the other bills? Tying into this task a whole other twist that seems to have crippled the horse before it gets out the gate.
I've tried with three different mortgage brokers over the last few years. As if the universe has other plans I can't ever seem to get them on board with my idea. True - our credit is trashed. We have a bit of debt - it's not insurmountable though. I believe it's actually well below the national average for a U.S. family.
Still - I keep getting all twisted up in the details. In fact, I've spent the last week waiting for an answer from a mortgage broker - he won't return my messages. I wish he would just call and give me that monosyllabic denial. "No," would be better than silence.
So - at some point over the weekend it dawns on me. Quit it. Just stop. Stop worrying about what comes next. You KNOW that nothing else is going to happen until you sell the house. You can't move, you can't pay on your debt, you won't get any closer to the door until you remove the noose named mortgage from your neck.
Again - an urge from the deepest parts of me to commit an act of faith. I know deep within that even without a house I will wake up tomorrow. I will take another breath. I will find a way to go on for yet another day. Life kicks and screams to perpetuate itself. In the deepest parts of depression when people pray for death the next breath still comes, the urge to eat and drink conquers that dark desire and we persist. We go on.
The minute that my mind latched onto this idea - that other part of me - the one that is tied to the machine began screaming at me. The house is a mess. There's a hole in the ceiling. The yard is a disaster. The paint is peeling. These things must be fixed before you can sell.
Coldly my spirit offers a reprieve. "No," it says. "You don't have to do any of those things. You just have to call a realtor and put it on the market."
I suppose that I don't even have to do that. I could just put a sign in the front yard that says, "For Sale." It really is that easy. It's mine. It's my property. I know that the value doesn't belong to me, but the right to sell it does. Still - a realtor does sound like the easiest way. I have to start somewhere. I just have to start. I just have to pick up the phone. Will I do it today? Will I start the ball rolling forward? Will I tell the door in no uncertain terms that I am approaching?
This is the first step. This is the reality. Perhaps it's scary because it does bring me closer to the door. It brings the unknown into my life. Uncertainty makes me uncomfortable. But there is no other way. This has to be done before anything else can happen. I have a lot riding on faith here. I believe this single act will bring a measure of momentum that I might not be able to stop. Am I sure? Am I sure this is the direction I want? Do I really want to walk through the door? There is a beam of light coming from that direction and sweet wind that smells of life outside the smoggy world of the machine. It calls to me.
I choose to follow it.
- Joseph Cambell
While my mind is busy reeling with ideas for land, subsistance, getting off the grid - I am having to fight for control and reign it in. Always in the past the dreams have overwhelmed me and I have grown frustrated, despairing at the distance to the mark. With any project, any goal, we all want to get to the fun part. I'm not saying that living a different life is going to be easy, but getting rid of this one really is the hardest part.
The temptation is to dump it all and walk away. Unfortunately, I realize to be successful in this endeavor, the practical matters have to be dealt with first. My brain is reeling with dreams of the future, but my hands are tied to matters of the present. This is where it always gets sticky. This is where I always end up sitting down and giving up. It always seems too daunting.
Ahhh, grasshopper. Do the words of your father sing in your mind?
"How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time."
The first step is really difficult. I've known what needs to be done for a very long time. I've hesitated for many reasons. One of them has been the emotional state of my husband. It's not necessarily that he disagrees with me, but every time I see the fearful look in his eyes I hesitate - my wish not to bring him any discomfort leaving me in a stale-mate.
We have to sell the house.
With a mortgage near $245,000.00 at 7% fixed our total payment every month exceeds $1,800.00. Any time I look at the math my spirit crumbles under the weight. Then the questions come - as I've been told they should. Where will we live? This one binds me consistently. How are you planning for your future? How much will you get for it? Do you even have any equity to get you through to the next step? Scary questions.
Then, as if Congress has taken up residence in my head, I start getting bright ideas. Well - why don't you pull the equity out before you sell it to pay off the other bills? Tying into this task a whole other twist that seems to have crippled the horse before it gets out the gate.
I've tried with three different mortgage brokers over the last few years. As if the universe has other plans I can't ever seem to get them on board with my idea. True - our credit is trashed. We have a bit of debt - it's not insurmountable though. I believe it's actually well below the national average for a U.S. family.
Still - I keep getting all twisted up in the details. In fact, I've spent the last week waiting for an answer from a mortgage broker - he won't return my messages. I wish he would just call and give me that monosyllabic denial. "No," would be better than silence.
So - at some point over the weekend it dawns on me. Quit it. Just stop. Stop worrying about what comes next. You KNOW that nothing else is going to happen until you sell the house. You can't move, you can't pay on your debt, you won't get any closer to the door until you remove the noose named mortgage from your neck.
Again - an urge from the deepest parts of me to commit an act of faith. I know deep within that even without a house I will wake up tomorrow. I will take another breath. I will find a way to go on for yet another day. Life kicks and screams to perpetuate itself. In the deepest parts of depression when people pray for death the next breath still comes, the urge to eat and drink conquers that dark desire and we persist. We go on.
The minute that my mind latched onto this idea - that other part of me - the one that is tied to the machine began screaming at me. The house is a mess. There's a hole in the ceiling. The yard is a disaster. The paint is peeling. These things must be fixed before you can sell.
Coldly my spirit offers a reprieve. "No," it says. "You don't have to do any of those things. You just have to call a realtor and put it on the market."
I suppose that I don't even have to do that. I could just put a sign in the front yard that says, "For Sale." It really is that easy. It's mine. It's my property. I know that the value doesn't belong to me, but the right to sell it does. Still - a realtor does sound like the easiest way. I have to start somewhere. I just have to start. I just have to pick up the phone. Will I do it today? Will I start the ball rolling forward? Will I tell the door in no uncertain terms that I am approaching?
This is the first step. This is the reality. Perhaps it's scary because it does bring me closer to the door. It brings the unknown into my life. Uncertainty makes me uncomfortable. But there is no other way. This has to be done before anything else can happen. I have a lot riding on faith here. I believe this single act will bring a measure of momentum that I might not be able to stop. Am I sure? Am I sure this is the direction I want? Do I really want to walk through the door? There is a beam of light coming from that direction and sweet wind that smells of life outside the smoggy world of the machine. It calls to me.
I choose to follow it.
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