Constancy and Change

The river is flowing a different direction today.  It’s funny how quickly something seemingly so constant can just.....change.  It's made me realize, that there is no such thing as constancy or predictability and nothing should be taken for granted in its present state.  In reality, change is its own constant state, isn't it?  Our bodies change, our relationships change, our surroundings change.  We resist the audacity of change, but sometimes we fail to see that things become stagnant if they stay the same for too long.  To avoid stagnation, we must constantly reinvent ourselves and our circumstances.  Renewal is what keeps us evolving and alive.  

Adversity through change offers a unique opportunity for learning.  When we get too comfortable with something or with someone, we feel a sense of mastery and we get bored.  Life becomes dull and, sometimes without realizing it, we being to reach for something new and better.  The universe pays attention to these cues and sends us in new directions.  It sends us new people and new experiences to give us fresh perspective, knowledge, and wisdom.  I feel we are duty bound to use this wisdom to contribute to, encourage, and inspire others along the way.  You see, those of us strong enough to do so, must press forward through the bullshit and the pain.  We must be a guiding light to others and lead them out of the darkness.  When they see, they will believe, that there is a way out.  When they witness the broken trail and see that we've come through, they will be more likely to begin their own journey knowing there is greatness and life on the other side.

Being forced into change is like being pushed, fully clothed, into the water.  That moment of lost control is scary and it takes seemingly long, certainly agonizing moments to rise to the surface and get our bearings.  But as humans, we are built to survive.  We may even find the ground beneath our feet once we have time to take some deep breaths and assess the situation.  Next thing you know, you're having a lovely swim on a sunny day and forgotten you had no intention of going into the water.  Your view of the world and, of your surroundings, has changed and evolved and now, you’re a swimmer.  In the river.  That is flowing a different direction today.

Building My Foundation

It's adversity, obstacles, and challenges that help us discover what we're made of.  Some of us need to challenge ourselves hard to get close enough to touch that inner essence of who we are.  I'm one of those people and the challenge I've set for myself here has brought me closer that I've ever been.  The emotion that comes up for me regularly these days, is a result of being so tuned in, so close to that raw center of self.  Nothing I've ever done has challenged me in this way and it's so important, crucial even, that I don't contract away in fear from the temporary pain of transition.

I'm building a foundation here.  Too many times I have moved into a center that didn't quite fit.  Either the place or the setting or the experience wasn't right.  This time I am building the experience from the roots, exactly as I want it to be.  It's back breaking work, but in the end I will be able to wipe away the blood, sweat, and tears and admire the stuff I'm made of and the dream life I've created.  It will have been built by me, for me, with purpose and passion.  Wherever I live after this home within me has been built, will be my true home and I can live in it wherever I choose.

I must remind myself in my weakest moments, that I am strong and supported, determined and capable.  This is my choice.  This is my calling.

Settling In

The sun is shining this morning and I woke up in my own bed.  I can't imagine a better start to my day after spending three weeks in an empty apartment on an air mattress, walking a mile to work every day in the rain.  My bike is here, my bed is here, all my things (though not all in one piece) are here and the trauma caused by my movers yesterday is now in the past.  Most of my life is still in boxes and my apartment looks like a tornado came through, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel where I'm settled and back to some semblance of routine.

In retrospect, I can see it was part of the master plan that I have three weeks in my empty apartment to settle into a work schedule and be forced out and about making new friends.  If I had been able to come home after my long days of standing at Rite Aid or in the restaurant, I may have spent my evenings hibernating in my bed putting my feet up.  As it was, being "home" in an empty apartment, furnished only with an air mattress was just too depressing.  So I was at the cafe seeing new friends in the mornings an out at the pub having dinner and introducing myself around my little neighborhood (and signing karaoke at the American Legion) after work.  During that time, I met the people who comforted me yesterday after the aforementioned movers had gone...people I consider friends.

Now that I have a home full of my creature comforts (somewhere), I can get back to my normal cooking and writing schedule and the prospect of that feels really good.  Most importantly, my feet and legs have acclimated from a decade of desk jobs to standing for 8 hours a day and I'm ready to settle into my new jobs and my new life.

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.

Catching Waves

No experience in my life has made me feel more alone than yesterday, when I opened the door to my new, empty apartment in a town where I know no one.  Fresh off the boat from LA, my first day in Seaside was surreal and filled with"what the hell am I doing?" moments.  Scarlett was freaked out (I found her wide-eyed, hiding in the loft on a shelf) and her discomfort added to my own.

I picked up a few creature comforts and smudged the new place with sage but, still feeling angsty, I went down to the water and watched the ocean for a while.  Tears welled as I announced my presence to her and told her about my hopes and dreams and asked that she watch over me and keep me safe and happy and inspired.  It's truly amazing the powerful affect the ocean and nature have on my psyche and emotional well being these days.  I walked away from my new view feeling connected and centered, having approached it anxious, lonely, and afraid.

This morning, I picked up a peppermint tea in an adorable cafe around the corner from my new apartment.  The girl behind the counter asked where I was visiting from and I told her I'd just moved in a couple blocks away and that I was from Los Angeles.  Everyone's eyes get wide when I tell them I've relocated from LA and they mumble something about culture shock.  I sat down to sip my tea and a couple with a baby next to me welcomed me to town.  Aurora and Lucas had moved from the Los Angeles area eight years before to an even smaller Oregon coastal town before moving here to Seaside two years ago.  Judging from their son Rorick's stature, maybe just before he was born.

"It was tough getting used to the idea that this is not like other coastal areas."  Aurora said with a smirk.

It was my turn to speak, but I wasn't sure what she meant by that.  Did she mean it was a terrible place to live?  Was she telling me I'd made a huge mistake?

Glancing out the window I said hopefully, "You mean the weather?"

"Yeah."  Lucas nodded.

I realized I had been holding my breath until he answered.  I let it go, relieved.  It's May and it was cold and drizzling outside.

"I don't mind this weather so much."  I replied.

I did wonder though, how long it will take me to miss the beating California sun.  I was wearing a heavy fleece and stocking cap.  Two days before I had worn sunscreen and a tank top.

I exchanged parting pleasantries with Lucas and Aurora and walked down to the water.  The rolling waves had made me feel so much better the evening prior and I needed to fill my happy tank before moving on to my day of errands.  As I walked along the water, the rain spit harder and harder.  Instead of racing home, I continued down the sand and then moved up to the boardwalk, sipping my mint tea and taking in my new surroundings.  The walk was cathartic and I felt as if the rain was at work cleansing me of the past.

My life in LA is feeling farther and farther away with each adjustment I make to small town beach life.  I feel inspired and, this morning, I actually did begin walking faster, though it wasn't to get out of the rain.  I was anxious to get home and catch a new wave of creativity.

Lost and Looking for Wisdom

I could feel the emotion welling up inside as I packed up the last of my condo for the movers who will arrive in the morning.  My first thought was, "it's about time".  I've been trying to tune into the emotional part of this process for days and, for whatever reason, haven't been able to access it.  Now, it was time to gently force the issue.

I put down the box and moved to the couch to let the tears stream down my face.  I took a couple of deep breaths, closed my eyes, and turned a question within.

"What's wrong?"

Silence.

I let the tears continue to roll, waiting patiently for the answer.  My inner knowing finally answered.

"I'm afraid."

I let the dialogue continue.

"What are you afraid of?"

Again, silence.

I coaxed my inner knowing into an answer by handing it a pen and paper.  She wrote:

"I'm afraid of being alone.  I'm afraid of leaving the safety of the place I know for the unknown.  I'm afraid of failure."

My inner wisdom began a furious scribble and replied with this:

"Do you realize what you've done, the risks you've taken, and the success you've had in your life?  You've succeeded in some of the most competitive markets in the world.  You have the capacity to not only succeed in this change, but to build something powerful and amazing.  You are leaving the safety of a place and a situation that has become too small for you.  You are not just going to succeed, you are going to thrive and grow and expand.  You are setting yourself up for the success of your lifetime.  You are creating room in your life for the things you've come to dream about.  You are enough.  You are more than enough.  You are love, hope, and passion.  You are ambition, talent, and creativity.  You're going to be great."

The tears streamed faster after that.  They were tears of relief and release in realizing my inner wisdom was right.  This move will change me.  It will catapult me into my purpose and give me room to grow into a person with the capacity for great things; successes I can't even fathom yet.

This dialogue helped me realize that we're all meant for greatness.  People in our lives or unfortunate circumstances can deter us from the path of finding our true selves and purpose, but we can always find a way back.  Our inner wisdom knows what this purpose is and that we are capable of achieving it.  We can hear it and access our own wisdom by giving it silence and stillness.  We must acknowledge this part of ourselves by asking the right questions when we feel lost and honor it by letting it answer.

Moving Day Cometh

I picked up the phone and started pulling triggers.  I signed the contract with the movers, locked in a date to pick up the keys, then bought a one way ticket for me and Scarlett, my opinionated ginger tabby.

"You're going to be a beach cat!"  I told her.

She squawked in opposition then turned and flipped me the tail on her way out to the patio.

I can't say I blame her.  Scarlett went through 2 moves during the year she lived with my mom in Kansas while I traveled around the world making TV shows.  She didn't like the idea of being a snow cat either and she doesn't like change.  She started acting nervous when the furniture started disappearing, and seems to be in a state of pre-trauma now that the boxes are piling up.  She hides under the bed when the tape dispenser starts screeching.

Moving sucks.  I want to hide under the bed too.  There is always so much more stuff than I anticipate.  I've already made 2 additional trips to the hardware store for boxes and it looks like I'll have to make yet another before the movers show up on Tuesday.  I really thought when I bought this place, that I'd have it indefinitely, maybe rent it out and make some money off of it once I got married or moved away.  I always knew Los Angeles wasn't my forever place, but I didn't think I'd be cutting tail 6 years in.  27 year old me was so naive.  33 year old me knows that life is unpredictable, much like the modern housing market.

I'm excited about the new landing spot, though.  It's a beautiful place I picked out on a map and, when I visited, found an immediate connection with it.  I'll be living three blocks from the sea in the Pacific Northwest in a little town called Seaside, population 6,500.  It couldn't be more different from LA, population gazillion, where community is a word you have to look up in the dictionary.

It occurred to me today, that I don't actually know how to be a member of a real community.  In fact, this morning I heard the new baby crying from the condo next door and realized I'd never even thought to bring them a casserole or offer any kind of help like a neighbor in a real community would do.  I wished the zombies congratulations when I saw them in the elevator a week ago, but aren't neighbors supposed to support one another and be the village it takes to help raise each other's kids?  Maybe if I had my own kids I'd have been more tuned in, but as it stands, I'm just another reason Los Angeles lacks a sense of community.

It will be interesting being a big city girl gone "new community member" in a small town.  During my most recent visit to find an apartment, I got back to the inn where I was staying and told Don, the old property manager,

"Don!  I found a place!"

"I heard!" he shouted back.

Wha...?  He heard?  I had put down the deposit two hours ago.  Maybe at 33 I'm still a bit naive.