The hills are alive…

I swear I almost burst into song in the middle of our conversation. 

Not, not while swinging around 360 degrees in my dirndl skirt…

but as the warty witch/crone from Sondheim's
 Into the Woods, 

exhorting folks to be “careful the things you say, children will listen"…

As most of you know, 

my oldest son, Art Boy is an artist;

(hence the nickname – aren’t I clever?) 

His courage to pursue 

and sustain 

a life in the arts
has been an inspiration to me, 

helping me to think, 

and frequently act with abandon, 

outside the box – 

using all the colors in my tool kit – 

to use all the psychobabble lingo 

that goes along with that metaphor. 

In a nutshell,
he found out weeks ago
that the gallery where he has worked
on and off for years 

is closing 

and he was faced with the prospect of losing his job.

Until a friend stepped in, 

also an artist who works at the gallery.  

Said friend decided to buy the frame shop component of the gallery 

and asked Art Boy to help him get it set up 

and operational 

in a new location 

and take it 

in a new direction.

Then another artist 

(also a friend to both guys) 

decided to buy the gallery 

and asked the artist- turned- business- owner- of- the- frame- shop 

to stay in the gallery 

and continue operations there – 

meaning  my son wouldn’t have to change jobs or location 

although his salary would get a bump up 

and he’d still be working with close friends. 

Dilemma about job insecurity solved, right? 

But no… 

Art Boy wrestled with his heart, 

and his gut, 

and decided that 

same-old-same-partly-new, 

wasn’t what he wanted –

and (this is a direct quote) 

“because he was raised by a woman who’s not afraid to take risks 

and step into the future with faith”,

 he turned the position down 

and instead 

will be jobless
(and healthcare-less) 

for a period of months 

while he uses the grant money he recently got 

to buy time to just paint – 

and see what other opportunities might come up. 

I almost screamed through the phone –

"WHAT? 

Who is the idiot that taught you THAT nonsense? 

You need security, you need a job; 

to hell with what you want in your soul!”

 And that’s when it hit me… 

all those things I was dying to say to him 

have been messages in my head to ME lately! 

Truth is,
as more and more people find out about my decision to retire
in a few months – 

with little income, 

no guarantees about healthcare, 

security 

or the underpinnings of a ‘normal’ life - 

it’s gotten scarier; 

it’s gotten more and more ‘real’. 

MY decisions are hard enough for ME to handle – 

but, when they’re echoed by your children,
with pride, no less,

it takes ‘real’ to a whole ‘nother level! 

Funny, I don’t ever remember telling my kids 

to “do as I say” 

OR 

“do as I do”! 

In one of my recent books about walking the Camino, 

I recently read “We carry our fears in our backpacks”. 

At the risk of channeling another cinematic character 

(this time from Jaws) –

We’re gonna need a bigger boat  backpack!