It’s been a week since I’ve been home and so far all is well. It’s a bummer looking at Jeep’s delectable pictures of corn on the cob and rhubarb pie or fun shots of the nighttime concerts and people riding bikes across Iowa on RAGBRAI. But I also know it’s been topping at over 100 degrees with extreme humidity as they ride up to 80 miles a day – so my jealousy does know its bounds. Still, the lure of traveling by bike and the wind that blows calls to me and has me wondering about my next vacation.
A vacation that now has to fit within my two weeks annual leave since I’ve taken on my first full time job – in yes, I’ve said it before, 16 years. I feel a bit like I’ve run my own marathon. I made my own schedule as a literary agent assistant, massage therapist, author and consultant for this stretch. I rode the waves of raising babies, moves, divorce, downturn of economy until it was all too much and I craved for that stability.
Heather Nova sings in Avalanche, “Security’s the whore in me that never lets me fly,” and living as I do on the border of the capricious, free-spirited Sagittarius and the stoic, hard-working Capricorn, I know this sentiment well. But you know, it’s like my friend Gina said to me many months ago, security of that paycheck gives me peace of mind and that’s freedom, too.
Case in point: Monday morning, my son Kobe came to me with a hangdog look whilst I was flipping pancakes in my new business attire. I kept at the pancakes until I noticed tears welling in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” Silently he led me to my room to point out the third ceiling fan that he had broken in a matter of 1½ years. The first one broke when he swung the pillow over his head to whap his brother, the second when he threw a hackie sack up to see how far the blade could send it. Both times I lost my nut because money was so tight a new pair of shoes or haircut meant I didn’t buy groceries for the week I didn’t have them. I learned to love rice.
Since then I’ve learned resourcefulness, including how to use a screwdriver. So I hugged him and said I knew how to fix it and I had the money to take care of it. Still he was shaken, so I told him I was sorry that he felt scared and assured him it was really okay. He took a shuddering breath and dried his tears.
It was then I realized that I was safe. Security was no longer a whore that kept me from flying, but bought me the wings I needed to soar.