Why Ground Zero Is Sexy & “Getting A Man” Isn’t

So a lot has changed in my life as many in the last year. For me, it’s been a year of decisions made and actions taken. And moving. A lot of moving. At this point, I’m totally at “everything must go” and reducing possessions to live a more sustainable life. This is what I refer to as “ground zero” or what my ex used to call the “blasted earth” state. Which as a meditator, is pretty much ideal.

Note: I am not there yet by a long damned sight. I persevere however.

Ideally I’d love a tiny house on wheels. (I have a whole thesis on the tiny house phenom, but now is not the time. Stay tuned.)  I’ve found that I don’t need the dolphin I drew in kindergarten or my masters thesis or old love letters, every driver’s license from every country I’ve ever had, papers on every house I owned in antiquity and the like, I really don’t.

zz-zzzz-zzip! swizzz! go the shears of my shredder.

I’ve had the rich Silicon Valley lifestyle, lived in the multi-million dollar house-with-pool-Jacuzzi-and-sauna crammed with stuff.
Didn’t make me happy. Was a burden. Who I had to become to have that lifestyle is not someone I want  to be or even can be anymore. I just can’t do it. I have to do me. We all do. If you’re not, wake up and smell the coffee, sista.

I take my coffee extra strong if anyone gives a monkey’s, with lots of homemade coconut almond cream. And cinnamon. And some format of sweetness. It’s the least I can offer myself to buffer the constant shitstream of life as it arises around me.
Coffee is a sacred sacrament.

Hail, Caffeina!

I’m also a Java Crucian…lol.

In  the constant work at lightening myself, I started shucking stuff ten years ago. Left a marriage, lived on my own, then craving people, am now living much lighter in community.

One bedroom of stuff and still too many boxes. Gonna keep whittling til I’m down to a rucksack and go on the road a blissful camper.

It’s a goal I look forward to and dream of daily. So glad to leave only a light impression of myself on the earth. ☺️


The Generation Gap Speaks

I just shared the above with a much older, well-heeled friend commenting that three shaker-knit cardigans in different colors was two too many and I was pondering whether or not to Goodwill them, or simply keep them in my car for giving out when I gift Blessing Bags to homeless folks.

Opting for the latter.

She rose up in high dudgeon and hissed:

“Maryam, what’s happened to you? You used to BE somebody! You had money, a position in society, you were a respected psychologist! You’re a published author for godsake. Now you walk away on it all to act like a hobo? WHY? I just don’t get it.”

Um yeah, I guess not.

I explained it all again, very carefully, about sustainability and living lightly and how rampant consumerism and creating multi-million dollar non-sustainable energy hog houses and culture is what’s gotten us to the point of planetary destruction in so short a time.

She’s eighty-two, but sharp as a tack, and finally got it, with reservations.

“But dear, who will take care of you? You can’t depend on fly by night housemates, can you? You need to find a man.”

No sweet lady, no I don’t.

I take care of me.

Always have.

I’ve been doing so my whole life when those I was related to (with the notable exception of my dear Mother) consistently failed to step up. I’ve taken care of me while I was paralyzed in a bed for a decade and worked, even there, to earn a living.

Plus which, no matter where I am in the world, I have beloved chosen family. We hold each other as brothers and sisters and responsibly take care of each other, period. As in, we’d give each other a kidney. Or guest bedroom and TLC.

And I’m still a respected psychologist, so my colleagues say, just not one with a downtown office or traditional business.

So whittling down to a rucksack is no hardship at all – it’s freedom. And I’m good.

If the shit hits the fan (as it will in each of our lives)…are you ok? Hope so.

Luvya, sweetpea.


#Sustainability #LiveLightly #CoreBlissStrategy

* Photo by Spencer Selover

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