Friday, December 13, 2013

Raison d’être, My Captain ~ By JLee

While seeking inspiration for a blog post the other day, I serendipitously turned to Facebook and began communicating with one of my daughter's race fans.   We were discussing what I imagined as my future before I met my Michael.  That's when the light bulb went on and inspiration struck.  

(Internet Photo)
 
Nine or ten years ago I seriously thought the future would find me with long, flowing hair living in the mountains, perhaps Wyoming, Colorado, or Montana,  nurturing an organic, peaceful life. On my back porch would be a pottery wheel overlooking my vegetable and herb gardens.  I would still be preaching about saving our Mother Earth and refusing to purchase anything contained in plastic.  I even started to prepare myself for the transition by returning to my creative roots and exploring my inner self through art work.  

                                                        (Internet Photo)

I had just purchased a smaller home and was beginning the process of making it mine!  The first project I tackled in my new home was making it reflect who I am.   I replaced most of the light switches with dimmers so that the atmosphere would reflect my calm, and tranquil inner being.   My brother Marty, who lives half way across the country in Phoenix, talked me through the first couple until I was comfortable completing the project on my own.  Oh yea, that was fun.   The simple truth is one should not drink wine while working on electricity unless you are prepared to get ZAPPED.  Next, I hired someone to redo the kitchen.  I had the contractor leave an area above the stove top so I could create a mosaic of a Kokapelli to represent my inner fun loving spirit, love of music, and disobedience for normal rules and conventional behavior. Ahhh!  My home was becoming an extension of me.  The only thing missing was the mountains. 



Being just over 50 years old, I felt there was a number of years before I would be able to move to the mountains, so I continued to enjoy my home.   It was quite beautiful, very comfortable, and relaxing.   Several friends described it as cowgirl chic.  I liked that depiction.  I felt it was a reflection of who I was, and in some regard, still am.  


So now what?  I have a wonderful, chic cowgirl abode and no one to share it with.   I asked myself, what does a red-blooded American cowgirl-wanna-be do when she wants to find someone to share her life?  She hits the single bars, of course.  Not my style.  Country western dance saloons?  Maybe.  All male strip clubs? Definitely maybe.  Instead, I opted for becoming a voyeur on Match dot com.  Yup. I bit the bullet and joined Match.   For over a year I would come home from work and spy on unsuspecting men via the internet.  What a great concept. 

After a little more than a year of false starts, many half truths, and outright untruthfulness; I decided to give up and cancel my subscription to Match.  The nerve of some people.  What makes a person believe they can say they are 55 and 6 ft tall, when actually they are 75 and 5 ft 8?  Do they actually think I would not notice 20 years and several inches?  Not to mention starting out a relationship with a lie.  No thank you!  I was prepared to try the all male strip clubs, but  Match inadvertently hit my credit card for another 3 month payment, so I decided to give it one last shot.  That is when I noticed someone of interest viewed my profile.  Hmmmm ... not bad!   I winked at him.  He winked back.  I wrote to him, he wrote back.  I called him up, he called me back. 

And that is how it all started.  

(Internet Photo)


                                                                 (Internet Photo)

Fast forward six years to current day and we are preparing to celebrate an anniversary of sorts.  We met six years ago this month.  Since meeting I have traded my future of living in a little mountain cottage, reading poetry, throwing pots on a wheel, and tending my gardens, for an adventure on a sailboat with the sun on my face, wind in my long flowing hair, reading cruising guides and nautical charts, and enjoying sundowners in varying locations with my Michael.  I thank God daily for this man beside me.  He is my dream partner, my raison d’être, my captain. 


Hey H Michael.  Do you think we can find room for a pottery wheel, 200 pounds of clay, a wood fired kiln, and a cord of hardwood on Adventure US 2?