Validating Fears
Change always carries unpredictable elements. If I trust in the current transition of the inherited investment property becoming a family home and/or business, am I giving up my River Dreams and personal determination? My head is still exploding from all the I.F.s attached to the parental drama between the GKs and I. Reminding myself that every I.F. is an Idiot Factor. Get the I.F. out of ^it^. Too many ifs cloud the vision and muddy the reactions.
Fear does not exist to make us afraid. It exists to warn us of danger. ~Zen proverb
Validating my fears seems to go a long way toward managing and sometimes even preventing their escalation into anxiety. Seems. The meanest lies in my personal herstory are the lies I tell myself. Call me, "Sheeba, Queen of DeNial." The sky is green and the grass is blue. Relagating that fact to the Mindfulness list, I am exploring the process of validating my fears a bit further.
The propane heater in the unloved old farmhouse is contributing to the exploration. Discounting the year and a half in Ecuador where HVAC is nearly unheard of, I was too young for awareness the last time I lived without central HVAC in buildings designed to use them. No such design spec existed in 1921 when this house was built. The propane in this house was first set up before the dangers of CO2 poisoning were widely known. Lord knows when that was. Building codes still don't exist in this township. Most of the propane outlets were capped somewhere along the way. I sure don't want the job of crawling under 100 year old pier and beam floors to be certain of what is what between the caps and the propane tank. It's a cramped and creepy space under there. Anxiety over the dangers of propane and CO2 poisoning seems warranted. The few cold days I have spent here during the 5 year survey were with my camp gear. I didn't even turn on the house propane.
As I monitor the system through ignorant eyes during the first freeze of the season, I find myself attempting to apply the process of monitoring the heater to my anxieties over the family and personal developments. Testing, one, two, three. . . Am I lost in metaphor again?
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Hugs & support Arfie!
Speaking of propane,......my dad has a bottle propane heater in his garage (mancave). My dad, our neighbor, and my dads long time friend Jimmy usually are sitting around the bottle of propane with the heater head attached to it. Also there is a milk crate with a paper towel on it...that serves as a table. A bottle of wine is nearby....and glasses. Yes, these old guys sit in the garage and drink wine. It could be summer, fall or winter. ... they are in there. Among the slush that dropped off the cars.....around a bottle of propane heater......just bullshitting... I should take a picture of this crew.
Great story, Chris. It sure fits the Dad stories you have been sharing. You should definitely take a picture.
Now ya got me wondering if my anxiety over the use of propane has more to do with flashbacks to such man caves. Not safe places for little girls and I have tons of visual imagery to attach from my "country gypsy" upbringing. The images of Small Town America that never made Norman Rockwell's easel. . .
Hi arfie. im rightbup there with you in the comp for queen of denial lol. i dont know if you are lost in metaphor or not but you ability to use the metaphor so well leaves me in awe friend. triple hugs of support ~
Big hug for you sweetie..... Propane scares me as well
I love old houses though..... They have so much more character that the new builds of today..... I hope you can figure it out soon so you can be nice and toasty and warm......xo
Yea, I love old buildings. as well. Hence converting the antique dairy barn into the new honey barn and several other remodeling projects. My first apartment in Germany was in the basement of a 300 year old manor house that had been converted to apartments, but the building never been permitted to degrade. I still haven't topped that apartment for unique character. I sure wish I could have afforded one of the upstairs apartments, but I doubt any would have been available, anyway.
My long love of old buildings gives me allot of extra insight into remodeling potentials and. . . Well. . . Not all of them can be saved. Even fewer are worth saving. Reality sucks sometimes. . .
The good news is that the CO2 detector validated the fear on the side of safety. Clean bill of health on that score.
Has anybody invented the psychosis detector yet? Am I sane yet?
We can be sane or insane together.... smile.... As Popeye said "I am what I am and that's all that I am"...… xo