“Love takes all the blinders and limitations off so that you can see the innocence in yourself and others.”
When my tenant (who happened to be a lawyer) refused to move out of the house that I had owned since I was twenty-five-years-old, I didn’t want to deal. Much like how I didn’t want to deal with my ex husband who gave our tenant a lease that benefited him more than us. When the Kaptain and I divorced, I created excitement to live in SLO and start my life over. I really didn’t want to move into the house, anyway. At this point, it was just another reminder of failed relationships, including the one I had with my father.
Now, three years later, I take responsibility for not following my intuition, allowing my ex husband to take the reigns on the place while we were still married. Begrudgingly, I let him talk me into a different lease than I had been using for years. In these partnership moments, God doesn’t tell you that one day you will be divorced, and it will all be ALL on you. So, you go along with your mate and pay for it many years later. My father’s judgements continued to scream in my head, “You didn’t take care of your goods, Kathleen!” Well, he may have been “right” about the house, and his righteousness and separateness from my ex didn’t create closeness. So, no one wins. Being RIGHT is not worth it.
Once the news came in that the lawyer was “sorry” about our divorce but wasn’t budging, I learned quickly that divorcing the Kaptain was not going quite as planned. I “thought” my ex would help me out and that WE would be dealing with the house, together. After all, he was the one who had met and rented my house to the lawyer in the first place. The Kaptain did go to one lawyer who said that there was no way of getting out of this lease, and that was that. I learned quickly that it was all on me, and I just didn’t want to deal with it or the money that it would take for me to get the tenant out. Obviously, I had more growing up to do.
I spent three years, renting on Laguna Lake. I learned so much about working with landlords, maintenance men, homeless people in my backyard, mice in the bedroom, and living on my own without a MAN. And of course Krew, fifty percent of the time. But now, it was critical for me to get back into my home. I was still recovering from liver cancer surgery, and I needed a safe haven for me to dwell. I am a nester, and I no longer wanted to live on the fearful path of “not dealing.” It was timely to take action.
I began to converse with my tenant via email, telling him about my plight. Again, he was “sorry,” but not moving. Man, I was so tempted to aggravate my liver and give my power over to this man who is clearly separate from his heart. Never mind a divorce, not even liver cancer budged him. WHERE IS HIS COMPASSION? Cinnamon continued to work with me on creating forgiveness and helping me relax into my heart where God’s wisdom resides. I knew that throwing away my peace only breeds ignorance and wouldn’t help me get my house back. I needed to stay alert and create compassion for him and his fears without abandoning love. This was a delicate situation which needed me to continue to take responsibility for NOT following my instinct, giving my ex carte blanche, and creating separation from my father. The house did not need to be an “F*** You” house like my dad had once stated. The house will be what I make it to be: A Living Love Sanctuary.
My ex girlfriend and I were working on creating a friendship since our breakup, and she gave me the phone number of a friend of hers who happened to be a lawyer in Seattle. He subsequently found me the perfect lawyer here in SLO Town. I was on my way. I had done everything to avoid lawyers, including going through mediation throughout the divorce. They seemed to be so intimidating, but I was no longer willing to allow anyone to power trip me. After our first meeting, he told me that this could cost me 50k or more. Because of my liver and poor prognosis, I felt that I had nothing to lose and hired him. I stayed in the attitude of gratitude that I even had that much in savings.
After months of going back and forth, the lawyer moved out. Fortunately, it didn’t cost me as possibly predicted. The total was about 5K. Education costs; and boy oh boy, did I learn. On the last day of Krew and I moving out, I put on the same jean shorts that I wore moving into my home when I was in my mid twenties. This time, I was going to accept this house fully as my own and treat it as such. As my son and I looked around and said goodbye to our rental, we walked out, and the garage door broke. We couldn’t get back in. It was as if our Lake House subtly and not so subtly said, “Finito!”
In the last eleven months of living in my sanctuary, I have dealt with all the neglect. Sure, I could blame the tenants for not telling me that there were rats in the attic or that a fence had fallen or that my backyard looked like right out of the children’s novel, “Where The Wild Things Are.” I could do that, creating more stress on my organs. And taking responsibility (not blame) for MY neglect has made all the difference. It was all in divine order for me to see that this was NOT my father’s house, or even mine. It was God’s house. If I had moved in any earlier, it wouldn’t have been appreciated for the gift that it is. The old oak tree is still standing, compassionately knowing everything I’ve been through. It’s roots are deep and it’s branches look like they are supporting the house with so much love. Like someone is giving you a a big hug every day. Cinnamon even felt a connection from the moment she first saw it. If I hadn’t accepted her help, I know that I wouldn’t have created the courage to stand up for myself in the way that I did. When she passes over, I plan to bury some of her ashes in a spot that she has picked out at the base of the tree. I can only begin to imagine what that day will be like. Stay HERE, Francesca.
For now, every Sunday, Living Love classes are held in the afternoon, and Cinnamon is training me on how to teach a beginner’s class. I see this sanctuary as a place of service. In my twenties, this home had helped a lot of people get on their feet. People who had been dumped on by their boyfriend, husband, or even friends. People who couldn’t afford a place, or who needed a reprieve from it all. Who knew that (this time) it was here to serve me. I am so grateful and finally willing to receive it, fully.
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