WICKHAM CP, FL—We got the folks moved into their new place yesterday, but, as I was gathering up some things at their old place, Fred, one of the condo board members (whom I’ve never even met before), walked up and told me in no uncertain terms that I couldn’t live here because I was too young.
I don’t know if this is true or not given that I’m not going to own or even rent the place, but I just shrugged in that “why should I care” way that often confuses mere mortals—and from the look on his face, had the same affect on Fred.
Later this afternoon, upon returning to the condo to research the above (findings: inconclusive), I found someone’s car parked in my parents’ assigned spot. I thought this odd considering all the empty parking spaces about, but this combined with The-Unfortunate-Fred-Incident and reading all that fear-based legalese of the condo By-Laws has left me feeling quite unwelcome there.
“Go away! We don’t want your kind here!”
Ahh, if they only knew.
When your sense of self is so much vaster than the personal self (Nothing and Everything and Soul and Light and intimacy with the Divine… ie: Mystical Oneness), where you live isn’t really all that important.