It’s not my problem, so why do I always try to solve it?

home, Pasco County, Florida

The situation is I am in is more or less recurring. I feel obligated to help. Financially help. Various family members. Maybe there’s an ask, sometimes there’s guilt with a wall of purpose. It comes in different shapes and forms and manipulates my emotions. Who knows why it really keeps recurring. I’m a very big empath when it comes to certain people or situations and it is to a fault. My fault.

I think that God gives me the ability to do these things, but it always sets me away from my goals. I feel bad about not meeting them and being able to save more money. With a child and a family, it’s more important to me than ever to be able to set money aside.

I often find articles on the internet that discuss how 40% of American adults cannot cover a $400 emergency expense. I am quite grateful to be in the 60% that can.

When I was younger, I made a lot of financial mistakes but I have been trying to rectify them since my mid-twenties. A baby is not a cheap thing, but we cut costs by using cloth diapers and buying clothes lightly used from local trade groups.

We now have credit cards with a $0 balance, over one thousand dollars saved in a high yield savings account and a total debt of about $10,000 that I am trying to tackle.

As an artist and working mom working in tech, this feels impossible.

Life is hard. How do you deal with the guilt of success? Are you obligated to financially help your family? Will I ever be able to buy a home for my family? Is life in America worth pursuing? Will it get easier? I miss gardening and having a screened-in painting area. I miss having a table made of cement blocks with morning glories growing out of them. I miss waking up early enough to see the sun rise and going on walks every day.

I had a good cry the other day at lunch. Now I feel better, and ready to ride the waves of the universal ocean.

This is August, 2019.

earth-ship baby on the trash mountain

earthship, home, writing

“The nasty parts of things are important to keep in mind in order to better appreciate the beautiful.”

At least that is what I have been telling myself every time I pull up into this mass of trash pouring out of the front porch, like some sort of a monster just waiting to suck up the entire yard and planet. It’s a sort of a funny representation of the state of the earth and it’s mine¬†now. A lot of mess, just junk. In heaps. I’ve been overwhelmed by things, this non stop accumulation of physical objects I just cannot keep up with.

This week, the trash will be gone. The roof will be fixed. This week welcomes a new level of decency to this raggedy  piece of shit, my empire of dirt. This trailer that I cannot seem to figure out why I care so much about. I bought flowers, already giving more consideration to the environment of which this property lies that the property itself.

gorgeous purple flowers

All the while working away every day. Getting older and more tired. My mind so busy, never able to sleep. Crying often, reading constantly, I feel unhealthy. Unbalanced. I don’t know how I became so stressed within the span of 8 months. So many things fell into my lap at the same time, life disregarding my comfort. Every decision feels like a tragic mistake lately, but at the very least its a decision and I was never good with those. I’m posting this is my first “before” in regards to the moon lake earth ship. I want to create a beautiful space with the help of my sister and her boyfriend and brother, TJ. I want to share this experience with you. It will probably take me a year, but this is hopefully going to be the most rewarding thing I ever do in my life. a butterfly garden, a fruit and vegetable garden, a beautiful home with bamboo floors and enough food to feed for a month. A chicken coop and a reading nook. A tree house and a koi pond and a spiral herb garden and butterfly visitors and bee visitors and art everywhere!

But in order to best appreciate that future dream, in 12 months, no matter what happens I need to relish in the fact that it looks like absolute shit right now. It’s elegant in a way, seeing the house I spent most of my early teenage years in complete shambles. A mountain of trash. This is poverty. Even the biggest pile of trash can be rebuilt, and I believe that.