Yesterday I got the call. The mortgage company called, and in a rare case, I answered. In their usual manner, they delivered the news that they will begin foreclosure on my house on March 17th. I can’t recall their quote verbatim, but I am sure they were very particular with the words written on their script. The news didn’t improve my day. One nice tangible bit was self-provided as my most recent book became available in paperback.  Maybe that will eventually be more than enough. Buy, read, review, and stay tuned. By the end of the day, telling folks about my news revealed too many other turmoils hidden behind requisite smiles – and a new way to acknowledge what’s essential.

The foreclosure news released a crowd of scenarios that I’ve kept in consideration ever since I put my home on the market about nine months ago.  That was precipitated from a previous crowd of scenarios by nine months of unsuccessful job searches (which is now past 18 months), which was initiated by a triple hit to my investing strategy. I enjoyed brainstorming as an engineer. I enjoy it as a consultant, artist, and entrepreneur. I use it in my life. Significant news that changes some ifs to whens drops me into another mode where the brainstormed list is reduced to the most likely and most appealing, with the hope that there are plenty of choices that are both likely and appealing.

Unfortunately, the most likely scenarios are based on extrapolations. There is encouraging growth in consultations, speaking events, book sales, housing prices, and even my stock portfolio (though not so far this week); but those extrapolations suggest months or years before anything significant enough to appease the mortgage company. And the mortgage company is apparently working to a closer calendar.

Fortunately, the potential of getting a good job, selling my home, sudden improvements in those currently shallow extrapolations, and windfalls (hello, lotto) continue and may even be more likely due to simple perseverance. As I’ve said many times, every email, every phone call, every hello on the street can be the life-changing event that happens without prelude.

Yesterday was a rare day. I had two social events. At the price of gas, and as hard as I am working, I rarely leave the house unless work is involved. But, one friend had finally recovered from an absence and I wanted to catch up on his news. And last night was a dance practice. (a practice dance by dancers for dancers without the pace of a class or the social expectations of a dance, $5, two hours, Bayview Hall, be there) I even snuck in a phone call to a friend for the sake of talking to a friend. By the end of the day I’d heard about death, major illness, bankruptcy, car accidents, a house accident that involved a car, and two or three stories that were obviously lurking just behind requisite smiles. Within that collection I’m the only one being public about personal turmoil, which is not surprising.

A couple of conversations mentioned the same new perspective. Losing so much changes the way the world is viewed, renders the essentials much less theoretical, heightens the awareness of wealth disparity, and reinforces the desire to give to others. Scenarios for winning lottery jackpots are more likely to include giving the excess away, and most likely, giving it to individuals instead of institutions.

While I was dancing last night I wondered about those other stories that I glimpsed but didn’t hear. I glimpsed them when I asked, “How are you doing?” and saw the struggle between honesty and politeness. It is what one friend calls, “Pretending not to panic.” Despite our pride in openness and compassion, few people want to hear the real story. I’ve had readers tell me so. I understand that. I prefer comedy as well. But someone has to tell these tales with more honesty than politeness. Then I found a new greeting. As a friend dropped into that struggle for a response I got their attention and rephrased the greeting. “It’s good to see you.” That brought a smile. I went to another who’d struggled earlier and playfully re-greeted them. The response: a pause, a smile, and “It’s good to be seen.”

My turmoils are almost exclusively financial. At least that simplifies my scenarios. My friends’ turmoils include that in a longer list. Unfortunately, in this society with this type of economy, finances are necessary for life. That’s a scary situation. I wonder if finances, society, or economies would shift if we relaxed the politeness and exercised more open honesty.

Those grander considerations are put here, and then put aside. Social change, politics, economic upheavals are inconsequential to my immediate concern. The mortgage company delivered a date. Sequestrations, multi-year revenue projections, Occupy movements, even global climate change are subjects of luxury. Do they have massive impacts? Yes. Should we resolve them? Well, it depends on how you define “we”. The struggles of many people I know are all-consuming. Working long hours (with no guarantee of getting paid) then trying to maintain the basics without the ease of money doesn’t leave time or resources to volunteer. For some, that $5 dance was a major luxury. It cost me an extra $6 because of gas. When my portfolio was healthier I spent about 32 hours a week in official and unofficial volunteer work. One of the other conversations I had was with someone in the midst of that world. There was a bit of surprise when I didn’t accept any of the invitations to join, or attend, or in another case, contribute.

Yesterday I released the good news about my most recent book being publishing in paperback. Self-publishing books is effectively writing my own lottery ticket. Persistence means my personal lottery ticket is potentially multiplied by six because Walking Thinking Drinking Across Scotland is my sixth book. (Multiply by twelve if you include my photo books and my book on Modern Self-Publishing.)  Success breeds success, and the early reviews of my Scotland book are encouraging. It is possible to sustain a comfortable lifestyle as a writer. I even know a few. Maybe I’ll join their ranks. But that doesn’t change the mortgage company’s calendar unless I get an amazingly lucrative book advance soon. (How about Walking Thinking Drinking Across France, or Ireland, or Italy, or Japan, or all of them?)

My story enters a new phase. I never expected this one. I don’t know what to expect in the next one. I appreciate you keeping me company. It’s good to be seen.

PS As I got ready to post this another message came in that a friend no longer had a working vehicle. Anyone have a car to donate?