I know, I know. I can hear you all saying… ‘Kernut, who? Kernut the Blond? Hmm, that sounds vaguely familiar.’

Sorry. (Assuming you’ve missed me.) Honestly, I’ve missed you all.

Believe me, I’ve wanted to write, but I’ve got nothing.

A big fat nothing.

And I’m On My Way To Hell In A Hand Basket

Limbo looks like this, just so you know.

I feel like I’m in limbo. Waiting to get a great job (six months now, but I’m loving my freedom and mobility!). Waiting to start The Great Roll-About in my RV (more fantasy then reality at this moment, but it makes me happy to envision the possibilities). Waiting to win the lottery jackpot and/or become a multi-millionaire because I really don’t want to go back to work for someone else (see previous note).

Waiting for something to change so I can tell you about it.

Meanwhile? I’ve got nothing.

And without a steady income my apartment is quickly becoming an expensive luxury. (Yes, you’re right – you don’t usually see the words “apartment” and “expensive luxury” used in the same sentence.) For some time now I’ve been reading about a few folks who live their life traveling the country in RVs, or the world with just a backpack and a lap top. No homes, few possessions, etc. It seems like a much more simple and easy, yet at the same time dynamic, lifestyle than my current staid and static existence.

I’m now working up the nerve to sell most of my possessions and pair-down to the essentials. This includes giving up my apartment. While not overly spacious, it is “mine” and on some level adds to a sense of security and stability, however illusory that may be. But I’m having trouble with detaching, and I’m not sure why. Is it the security of “having possessions”? The security of having a “place” to call my own, the feeling of a “home base”?

I’m telling all of you this as a way to help me move past the fear. The fear of letting go of this sense of having a “place”, and the false sense of security to which I’ve become very attached. Giving up my “place” will put me smack dab in the middle of the limbo pond. It’s not like I haven’t moved before – but I always had a place to go.

This time, like a gypsy, I won’t knowingly have a place to go. That’s the scary part. It’s also hard to find another place to rent when you don’t have a steady income. And I also have a cat. (She has been my faithful companion for 17 years, doing more for me than I could ever express, and I will be her faithful companion until one of us passes.)

It’s going to be a scary step to take, but it’s also an opportunity for a leap of faith. (Working on that, too.)

Hugged By A Saint

Yesterday my friend and I took a short road trip to visit Amma, the Hugging Saint. She travels the world just giving hugs. Thousands line up, often traveling hundreds of miles, just to get one of her hugs. She makes no claims, and charges nothing. Donations go to her many humanitarian efforts, including building homes for those who’ve lost theirs to a disaster, and providing health care to underdeveloped communities.

The process for receiving Darshan (the hug) is fairly efficient. Amma has about 20 attendants surrounding her, assisting in the process. Once you get in place for your hug, you aren’t allowed to hug back. An attendant on either side places your hands on the table behind her. It felt odd to be hugged by someone and not hug them back. While she hugs you, for about 30 to 60 seconds, she’s chanting softly, probably in Sanskrit. Not knowing any Sanskrit, and being a bit hard of hearing, I have no idea what she was saying.

Everyone is asking “How do you feel after the hug?”. I do feel different, and I’ll try my best to describe the feelings. Immediately after the hug, my mind felt lighter (haha, I can hear your “light-headed” jokes from here), and clearer. I felt more relaxed and calm.

And then, somewhere on the expansive grounds of the event, I lost my wallet with debit card, cash, and ID.

At that point I wasn’t as calm for the next hour and a half, but then I just let it go. Honestly? I was far more calm, centered, and relaxed about my lost wallet, as well as navigating the massive, pushing crowd than I would ever have been before the hug. In retrospect, I’m somewhat amazed by my lack of typical lemming-like behavior. About three hours later, I was reunited with my intact wallet. (My deep gratitude to the nice gentleman who returned it to me exactly as I left it. More than the loss of a mere $20, a “stolen” wallet would have wounded my faith in humanity. By returning the wallet, you have kept that intact as well. Blessings to you Devi Dos.)

Twelve hours, and one Chakra Clearing meditation after the hug I felt totally relaxed, at peace, and calm. Not just my head, but my whole body. It’s now been twenty-four hours, and one lovely, and normally elusive, long night of sleep since the hug. I woke up feeling the same sense of peace and calm I had last night.

Still working up the courage to give notice on my apartment, but I’m feeling closer to it. Somewhere deep in my core, I know it will all work out. I’ve just got to walk through the fear and false sense of security.