Saturday, December 29, 2007

He's gone...

Yup. Walter's back on the road.

But he started off with a decent load, and Mr. Bank Account will be happy, at least.

Me, I've been under the weather for a little while now. Weak and fevery, and I'm not sure why. I'd love to say, --I'm going to hit the yard and plant some snapdragons! But it may not be in the cards for a few more days.

I'm more likely to be napping a lot, and attacking that paperwork again.

The Paper Chase Project is going well. I'm feeling ever so organized! Five years' worth of filing is almost done. I can actually put my hands on Important Pieces of Paper that I've been looking and looking for, sometimes from two or more years back. I even found the title to the car in there.

Keeping up with paperwork used to be the norm in my life. It took until this year to realize there might well be a connection between me falling down on the job, paperwork-wise, and when we lost our business. That happened in January 2003. And how far back do my unfiled papers go? 2003.

I've said before that I love reality. That's true. Part of reality is seeing one's own self as clearly as possible. Yet humans have a natural talent for self-deception.

Seeing inside ourselves, or seeing what's really going on in the world, often takes more effort, determination, and emotional toughness than we give it credit for.

I make it one of my highest priorities. Which doesn't mean I always achieve as much clear-sighted understanding of myself as I'd like.

Whatever the reason my perception was blocked, or perhaps just shaded, I'm glad I can see this better now. Losing the business was hugely gladdening, many ways. Freedom. I never wanted to work in it, wasn't supposed to, had to, and resented it.

But it was still a loss, and it looks like I didn't give that the credence I should have.

People. Grieve your losses. If you don't grieve your losses you can't let them go, you can't move on.

Amazing how peaceful these trays of nicely sorted little papers makes me feel.


prettylady said...

Excellent advice. There is a sharp distinction between 'grieving' and 'wallowing,' as well. Often we mistake the one for the other; we either try to discipline ourselves out of a perfectly legitimate grief and accompanying depression, or we malinger as an excuse not to take responsibility for our lives and to move on from loss.

Loss is painful, but it's not nearly so painful as the chaos created by the machinations we employ in order to avoid pain.

prettylady said...

And I lost a business, and a substandard partner, in 2004. It was one of the best things that ever happened to me, and definitely the most devastatingly painful--like radical surgery. It takes time to recover from something like that, but it's time well spent.

Desert Cat said...

O I wish I were not reminded of the paper mound that faces me again as tax season approaches...

Granny J said...

I understand how you feel about those nicely sorted papers. My mind begins to fuzz up and I realize that I haven't sorted the pieces of paper lately. It's good to see you back, visiting here and there, k. I've missed your great comments!

k said...

Pretty Lady, welcome back!

I had this nice long interesting comment all written out in reply to you, and thought I'd posted it, but soon discovered the computer ate it instead. That's been happening a lot lately.

I've decided to take that as something Meant to Be, and not try to reconstruct it. ;-)

DC, be glad it's not five years' worth! Now here's an odd feeling: I just filed last year's tax return, and I've already drafted up next year's. Get the documentation in and I'm good to go.

Weird, huh?

granny j, yes! Those papers are sort of nesty, like.

And I've missed reading and commenting. I'm not done with the Great Paper Chase yet. I just couldn't hold out any longer.

sue said...

I was all caught up with my filing... for about a minute. ;)

the Sapphire Cat said...

excellent, excellent advice. especially since the grieving we need to do will eventually happen anyway, only it will be displayed in some odd (or worse) behavior and more than a few inappropriate comments to those who don't deserve them. ( some people even call these nasty comments 'jokes.' my family is FAMOUS for this).

i think sometimes our perceptions become blocked to certain events in our lives (and their meanings) due to the fact that we aren't yet ready to fully appreciate the realization. may not be that way for others, but it sure seems to be that way for me.

k said...

Yeah, Sue, funny thing about that. You think you're all done...and then the MAILMAN comes, AAAUUUGGGHHH!!! ;-)

Sapphire Cat, that actually makes perfect sense to me. I think that's exactly what happened in my own situation. There was so extremely much wrapped up in that event. Even just doing all the horrid *mop-up of dead business* work, it was so hard to get up every day and force myself to make those calls, write letters, tell customers who to call instead of us...

And I had a cast on my leg and all this other stuff going on at the same time. We'd been trying to sell it, not liquidate, and we had some buyers interested...then news of starting a new war came on the radio, and our customer base just melted into nothing. A business worth a few hundred thousand was suddenly worthless. A war tax we paid.

I really wasn't ready. Not at all.

Those nasty comments disguised as *jokes?* Oh, I FEEL for you. Classic passive-aggressive BS, there. I really detest that, and clearly you're no fan either. To have a whole family act like that? erg! how teeth-grinding!