Blocked

I've been having a hard time posting lately. I've started multiple posts only to stop half way through. Nothing seems important enough to share with the masses (perhaps it's just one mass). I think I'm in a funk.

There's the woman, Leann Mabry. She has a podcast called Tag in the Seam. You should really check it out. It's funny, insightful, and very clever. I love it. Well, Leann has recently gone through some serious shit. I don't know the details, but she laid her emotions and her pain out for everyone to see and hear on her podcast and on her blog. At times, I felt as if I was intruding on private moments not meant for my eyes. But they were. They were meant for everyone's eyes. I can only assume that sharing her pain with everyone in such a graphic way is part of her process of dealing. It intrigues me. I wonder if I have the ability to be so open with my life - or if I even want to?

A few weeks ago I was resolved and determined to change some fundamental things in my life. I haven't gotten very far with that. I've made a few attempts and they've failed miserably (I'll save those stories for another post). I know I'm close to being that person that I want to be - but it's like a Cheeto that bounces under the couch that you can't reach - you want it so badly (who doesn't want Cheetos?) but just can't quite get to it.

I'm going to visit a friend in Marquette, MI in a few weeks. She's a Buddhist and we are going to house sit for friends of hers who live "off the grid." No running water, an outhouse, and gas lights. This trip has the makings for a real spiritual retreat. I haven't been on a plane since high school, and I've never been to MI or seen the Great Lakes. I'm excited about the trip. I'm excited to see my friend. She's one of those few real people out there. She's amazing. I hoping between being with her and being in such a . . . . . . removed . . . . . setting, I might be able to figure some things out. Find some peace.

But, really? An outhouse? What am I thinking?!?