Keeping the Dream Alive

I'm trying not to beat myself up too much for not finding time to write the last couple of weeks.  I try to make peace with it by telling myself there will be times, lulls in my life for writing, and times to be fully living.  After all, what would I write about if not for this time dedicated to experience?  I do have to remind myself, however, when I feel I'm getting caught up in the microcosms of daily life, that I'm not here to wait tables or be the best cashier Rite Aid ever had.  These jobs are a means to an end and I need to keep that end in perspective.

I have come here to extract myself from the material world; to build a life that can be led from anywhere.  I have come here to gain further insight into my purpose and my dreams.  This place and the growing pains of this transition are temporary.  This platform I'm building is a starting ground, a launching point for the great things I'm meant to accomplish.  I need to keep my priorities in line and make sure I continue to reach for the right goals.  I need to reserve energy for my passions; the ones that will propel me toward my dream life.  I've got to keep that vision up front in my mind and access it every single day.

The Plan

I decided to finally write about the details of The Plan.  I chose today because a stressed out, down in the dumps feeling met me at home after yoga this morning.  After spending some time with it (and feeding it), I realized it was here because of the pending move.  D-day is inching closer and closer and I'm feeling a little unsettled.  I'm hoping that writing about The Plan will chase away today's blues with a surge of motivation and excitement.

I'm leaving LA.  For good this time.  In December of 2011, after a month long, solo, soul-searching trip to Bali, I decided to uproot and move to New York.  I did it and it was wonderful.  I loved New York City and my nine months there were inspiring and interesting and NYC helped me recover from my break up with LA.  Then, an opportunity presented itself, and I left New York last August to travel around the world for a show I was working on.  I ended up back in SoCal after it was over in December.  That's when me and LA accidentally got back together.  Not on purpose and, not really to give it another try, but because it was easy and comfortable.  We just kind of, fell into the old routine.  In January, my tenants moved out of my condo and I moved back in.

As nice as it was being back in my own home, it didn't take long for me to come to the conclusion that enough was enough.  For months, I had been contemplating selling my place and decided now was the perfect time to move forward with the sale and break up with LA for real this time.  My time in New York, though I loved living there, made me realize that I needed to ease out of the TV industry and pursue my writing career full time if I wanted to be truly happy.  Sadly, happiness for me is giving up a 6 figure salary for that of a novice writer.  I don't know what a novice writer's salary is yet, because I haven't had any paying work.  Yet.  But I did get commissioned for my first real article and my deadline is Tuesday.  It is not six figures, but it's a start.  Unfortunately, this small salary, hopefully in my near future, means no more New York City.

That's the basic back-story (if you want the nitty gritty, go back for some of my older posts).  Now for The Plan.

In a few weeks, I will hire movers and have them schlep the belongings I haven't sold from Los Angeles to a little town in Oregon called Seaside.  I have rented an apartment three tiny blocks from a beautiful beach in a town of 6,500 people.  The air improves, the view improves, and the people are nicer.  Oh, and my monthly expenses decrease by at least $2,500 a month.  I will be living more life on less $$.  My life will be simple and centered around a real community for the first time in my adult life.  I will hold a minimum wage job and spend most of my time writing, clamming, riding my beach cruiser through town, and walking the beach.  I will have no car, no condo, no fancy dinner or drinks obligations, no friends, no family...New York was a dress rehearsal.  This is the real deal fresh start.  All the positive and scary things about a fresh start.

Moving to Seaside is a huge leap of faith.  I have faith in myself that I can make it as a writer and that Seaside will be the perfect venue for my new-found entrepreneurial spirit.  I have big plans for myself and, to be fair, they are not so much about the place.  It didn't matter where I chose to move, just that I picked a place with a low cost of living that was also inspiring and offered a sense of community.  I found Seaside on a map, bought a flight, rented a car, and found my new home.

This helped.  I'm back to feeling excited and inspired and anxious to spend thousands of dollars on movers to get home.

A Home and a Life in Transition

I listened to a Deepak Chopra meditation today about how our outer worlds reflect our inner worlds. Looking around at my own outer world I had to laugh.  It's dead on.  It is a home in transition.  I am a woman in transition.  It is a perfect match.  Well said Deepak.

My artwork has all been taken off the walls, neatly packed, and is resting on the dining room table.  The curtain rods are leaning against the kitchen wall, their hardware in baggies taped to the sides.  The curtains themselves have been washed and folded and are also on the dining table waiting to be boxed up.  There are two big piles on the floor, one of things to give away and one of things to take with me.  There is a bookshelf disassembled on the floor in the living room waiting to be picked up and taken to its new home.  There are about 20 wine glasses on the counter from my 30th birthday party in wine country that, though sentimental, won't justify the real estate in the downsized cupboards of my future.

Looking around my home today, I realized I'm not sad or scared anymore.  The grace and ease of this transition have replaced the fear and sadness with a sense of calm, peace, and  patience.  As soon as the timing is right I'll be free to move on from here and onto a simpler life with less stuff and fewer ties.

Yes, I am a woman in transition and this is a home in transition.  It's not clutter, it's not chaos, it's simply me and my home transitioning; me to a new home and it toward a new occupant.  My mind is clear, my intentions are set, and with each piece of furniture I sell I feel better, lighter, freer.  It's thrilling really.  It means I'm getting closer and closer to my new life and to new experiences.  I'm coming to the end of one chapter and anxiously anticipating the next.