Circles and Lines

"I live my life in growing orbits, which move out over the things of this earth. Perhaps I shall never achieve the last, but that will be my attempt. For I am circling around God. Around the ancient tower.  And I have been circling for a thousand years. And I still do not know if I am a falcon, or a storm, or a great song."

~ Rainer Maria Rilke


I have always adhered to the philosophy that each of us walks an individual path - some along a fairly straight trajectory, others meandering, circling back, forgetting the path, finding it and then diverging again.  The more scenic route, shall we say.

That's why I love the Rilke poem so much - the idea that instead of a long path from here to there - we are simply floating on air round and round, ever reaching new heights, expanding our perspective and vantage point.  Yet still somehow tethered to a central structure - our core, our heart, our soul's inner mission.

Why am I talking about circles and paths today?  Because after nearly five months in California - of soaking in the sun, friends and family... and sending out nearly 40 resumes and job applications... I have received three and only three call-backs.  And all three interviews are happening... now.  Life is funny, no?

And you want a little more irony? The opportunities are in the following locations:  1) Connecticut (yes... the very same Connecticut from which I just packed up my life and moved across the country, on purpose, not so long ago), 2) San Diego (the place from which I moved to Connecticut eleven years ago) and 3) Sacramento (the place from which I moved to San Diego two years prior to that).

If any of these opportunities become real offers, I will be making a turn back to a place I have already been.  Something familiar and known. As a wanderer by nature, this is not always the feeling that I seek.  I love different and new and challenging and those things that take my breath away because it's raw and untouched by my mind's eye. 

But this is one of the best tricks of life, isn't it?  To find a way to meet every single day as if it is the only one I've ever lived.  The only time I've seen that butterfly or touched that leaf or hugged my mom or giggled with a friend.

Perhaps there are times that you feel stuck… as though despite your desires, you are in the same place you were several months - or even several years ago.  But I am learning to see that with every new challenge that we take on or conquer…  With every new ounce of faith that confirms that life will and always does take care of us.  With every new desire to nurture the really important things in life - we are changed.

Life is always offering options to us... either encouraging us to stay the course... or to get our butts in gear and do something different.  If you feel stuck in Groundhogs Day – pay attention.  Keep listening and saying yes to the strongest feeling that comes to you.  Keep dreaming and expecting it all to work in your favor.  In time… it most surely will.  But you may have to take action.

I will keep you posted if there is any news to share – and believe me, I am quite ready to have this kind of news to share.  For now, I simply wish you all the loft and air beneath you – and the inner knowing to identify when the time is right to zoom zoom zoom towards everything that you've ever wanted. 

Love and hugs,
b.

Trust

Seems that I've been talking a lot about trust and faith to the people in my circle lately - and of course whenever others are talking about something... I remember how closely life resembles a mirror.  I take a look too.

One friend was concerned about opening herself up to a new relationship after several years' hiatus and a painful breakup.  As she shared her worries -  What if he breaks her heart, could she endure it if it didn't work out, what if she was meant to be alone after all? I felt deeply for her - hidden just below these thoughts were truly primal fears that so many of us share. 

Several minutes into the chat, we had a good chuckle:  The truth was, though they'd spent a little time getting to know each other, the man hadn't even asked her on a first date yet.  Isn't it typical of the mind:  to have us married off, divorced and devastated before we've even had dinner and a movie!

Our natural defense system is amazing - it will set off alarms at the first sign of danger. Like the best military tacticians, our hearts and minds join forces to protect and defend at all costs.  And those costs are mighty:  it might mean living a life that is comfortable, but not quite vibrant... that is safe, but not out on the edge of adventure and love and creativity.  And, as we all know, no one gets through life unscathed by surprise attacks anyway.

I just read a marvelous passage from the book, The Alchemist... In the scene, our protagonist has traveled across the desert with a large caravan and at last arrives at the oasis.  Upon greeting the new visitors, oasis leaders request that everyone hand over any weapons as part of their policy of peace.  Our shepherd is taken aback when his travel mate removes a revolver.  "Why do you carry a gun?" the boy asks his friend.  "It makes me feel safer around people," he replied.

I love this passage - how many times do we insist that what we are doing is protecting ourselves from "danger" when in reality we are simply proving that we do not trust in our own innate safety... in our own ability to thrive in this life.  We are, in fact, lugging around ammo that is unneccessary at best and dangerous to self and others at worst.

Our weapons vary greatly - we vote a certain way to protect our interests, we keep certain people close and others at a distance to protect our hearts, we shut down our emotions or burst out in anger during heated discussions to protect our way of thinking.  We say no, when we'd rather say yes.  We take the safe job rather than the one that makes our hearts sing.  We stay in a place or a relationship beyond its benefit.  And yet these merely give the appearance of protection from "harm."

The reality is that our best weapon is faith in Life (or God or Karma or the Universe) itself... Faith that we can handle anything that is presented to us - a break up, a move, a set back, a new job, an illness.  All are lessons.  All allow us to grow and to more surely feel Life itself saying YES on our behalf!

So when you hear the alarm bell - or you've divorced an idea before you've even let it tickle the spot in your mind that says... maybe the sky won't fall - maybe it will be absolutely glorious!*  You may want to give Trust an extra spin.  And dream big...  and love deep.

Keep it real people, the drama is only make believe!

Love,
Brandy

* I am certain I pilfered this little line... just not sure if it was from the tiny paper tags on my teas or from a book - but thanks to the author regardless!

Whistle while you wait...

I was scheduled for an interview this morning at 10:45 at a local Starbucks.  As I sat drinking my water infused with blackberry essence (does anyone know exactly what that IS?), my interviewer called apologetically to say that she was still in a meeting and asked how flexible my schedule was.

Ummmm... pretty flexible.

So I sat there, enjoying an hour of solitude, taking in the stream of caffeinated humanity, and decided to pull out my notepad to write.  It was a wonderful hour.

In my last post, I mentioned the idea of being present and aware, and enjoying what we have while waiting for other parts of life to unfold.  A few friends laughingly reminded me that, while nice in theory, it is a little hard to pull off when, say... the bills come due, or the scorpion crawls across your kitchen floor, or you think your biological clock is just a hair away from all-out blitzkrieg.

So I share a few thoughts and bits of insight below that might help - whether you are waiting for an interview, a new home, a baby, a miracle, a raise, a life partner or a vacation... Ideas for happiness while you wait.

1. Believe. Believe that whatever dreams you may have come from somewhere far bigger and more powerful than just YOU.  And something far bigger and more powerful than your brain is plotting and orchestrating so that you can achieve your goals.
2. Fertilize your positivity.  Make sure that the ground beneath you is ripe for positive thoughts by surrounding yourself with encouraging books, movies, music and people.  You'll soon gravitate towards those that make you feel better and gently guard yourself against those that do not.  * A short list of my faves are listed at the bottom of this post.
3. Get specific. Whether you have had one dream seared across your soul since birth, or you are just starting to sense a new desire bubble to the surface - take time to clear away anything that smells of fear and focus only on all that you want. 
4. Write it down. You might want to take a sheet of paper and do what I call "blue sky" writing.  Start painting the best-cast scenario of your goal with words... make it your own variety of perfection.  For example: "I want to live in an adorable home near the water with lots of quirky details and sunny windows, a reading nook, plants everywhere, a big porch, a modern kitchen with an island for entertaining, a hunky husband, a fat cat, a lovely summer garden and gobs of ugly tomatoes. Oh, and a job would be nice too."
5. Now... ignore your thoughts. That's right. Because as soon as you start painting this picture, your thoughts are going to whisper, "Hmmmm.... how do you think you can buy a house on your salary? ... and who is this husband fellow? ... and honey, tomatoes aren't going to grow in the shade."
6. Count your blessings!  OK, so you don't own a house yet - this means that you have a lot of other things to be grateful for:  financial freedom, the ability to travel, no lawn duty, extra time and money.  So celebrate all that you have and give gratitude to the Universe, to God, to karma, or whatever it is that you believe in.  You have a lot more than you may realize.
7. Stay busy. Sometimes there are clear-cut action steps that will move you closer to your wish, dream, goal or desire.  At other times, when you exhaust everything you know to do, you must simply let go and focus on your attitude.  That means taking notice when a negative thought meanders by (and it will) and finding your own special medicine to stop it in its track. The best trick I know is to do something, anything, productive.  Do sit ups, send out a resume, call a friend and ask how THEY are doing, make a card and send it, lend a helping hand, go for a run.  Then, even while you wait, you will have strengthened friendships, thrown out good juju, and maybe even tightened up those abs a little bit.  I'm just sayin'.

I for one am a born dreamer. I've always wanted life to look a certain way - I've wanted to be smiling, to be happy and healthy and peaceful. To have wonderful people in my life to love and to be loved by.  And I believe that desire is one of the most glorious gifts of being human - it is literally how we create our lives.  If you don't like your current situation, change something. If you see something over there that calls to your soul, take one feeble step, then another towards it.

And then, when you are hot on the trails of a long burning dream and you can literally smell the heat coming off it - you will know that you have enjoyed the entire path to getting there.  Now that is living!

Friends... I hope you leave rubber on the tarmac!
- Brandy


PS - The interview finally took place over lunch several hours later than expected.  I met four of their team members - and I think it is safe to say that I got the job.  A freelance project for a great marketing and events firm that will keep me busy and in good company "while I wait."  Hmmmmm.... is that whistling I hear?



As promised - positive books and web sites:
TUT.com  (sign up for the daily "messages from the Universe" - you'll love them!)
happiness-project.com (great articles on bringing more happy into your day)

Artist's Way by Julia Cameron
The Path to Love by Deepak Chopra
Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz
Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

Please let me know your favorite "feel good" books and sites!

Floating... Like it's my Job

These days, it could be said that I'm working my tan like it's my job. I know... you're rolling your eyes.  How unfair to mention this when most of you are working full-time, running around after kids, or somehow balancing the dizzying combination of the two.  But bear with me for a moment.

The tan is just the by-product of a new daily "workout" at the lake.  And the new daily workout is the product of a hamstring injury that has summarily sidelined almost everything that I love to do:  running, walking, biking, hiking and even yoga.

I understand that this is temporary - yet having found no real cause for the pain, it is disconcerting. With the help of a chiropractor and a physical therapist, I have spent the last several months being x-rayed, adjusted and stretched like a contortionist.  I estimate I've spent roughly 3,000 minutes in Gumby-like positions or sitting on an ice-pack. Oh my god.

Here's the interesting thing, though:  I hurt more now than before.

This is especially troubling because I've always believed that if I just work a little harder, do that extra project, or go the extra mile -- well then, I can make anything better.  But this morning, after a long and lovely swim, I balanced myself on my water noodle like an old lady and began to think about a new action plan.  How about... I stop trying.  How about I let go, stop the painful PT, and simply allow my body to find its best way to heal and its right way to be.

Instantly, the ego reacts.  You mean, accept my body exactly as it is in this moment?   Flawed?

Yep.

And then deeper questions: You mean, accept my Self exactly as I am at this time?  Accept that I'm in the exact right place - hunting for work, living at my parents' house and dealing with a hitch in my giddy-up?

Yes.

And with that yes and that acceptance comes the big lesson.

It is a choice to either believe that swimming is a poor substitute for activities that I'd rather be doing - or to revel in one of the greatest delights of summer.  I've loved to swim ever since the summer of 1982, when my sister and I learned to crawl, breaststroke and backstroke in the chilly lake near our grandparents' house in Wisconsin - the one with the slimy green ropes and the marginally scary instructors with long-voweled accents. Unquestionably one of the best summers of my life.

Today, the water still holds such magic - the rhythm of the strokes, the meditative breath, the feeling of sleek weightlessness mixed with bursts of power, the utter freedom of it.  And now I get to swim every day.

I won't stop wanting to run - and I won't stop believing that I'll be back on the trails soon.  But I will stop thinking that I'm not really living until I'm pounding the road in my Asics.  I can choose to hold the dream while enjoying the hidden blessings, lessons and joys of right now. 

So often, we feel like we're waiting for something else to happen:  waiting for the house to sell, waiting for the next job or a better relationship, waiting for the economy to pick up or for life to slow down, or in this case, waiting for a hamstring to heal. But while all of this waiting is happening - so is LIFE. 

I'm aware that I am enjoying one of the most beautiful times on my path so far.  This summer is not simply a stepping stone to what's next, but a series of moments and memories that fill up the soul - movies and ice-cube fights with my nephews, getting "made up" by my four-year-old niece, lake days, motorcross nights, catching up with dear friends, and the day-to-day delights of spending time with my mom.  It's the gift of time... time to dust off old dreams and goals and to create new visions for the future.

There will certainly be moments when we all must must prepare for a slow long-distance crawl - or perhaps a mad dash for the raft.  But there are other times, like now, when we can simply turn onto our backs and float - soaking in the sunshine and feeling the body buoyed by we know not what.  This is trust.  This is acceptance.  This is knowing that we are, at all times, in the just right spot.

I hope that you are diving in - enjoying every breath, every kick, every stroke.  Life is short - and so full of possibility... so swim deep!

PS - I know where some floaties are if you need them.

True North

"Every blade of grass has its angel that bends over it and whispers, 'Grow, grow.'" (The Talmud)

Lately, my life's pace has been.... mmmm.... meandering.  Maybe even a little lilting. For well over a month, I've had the absolute luxury of time - to read, to explore vineyards and state parks and tourist destinations, to visit my oldest friends and closest family, to take photographs and to write. Without the usual hum of activity and to-do lists and obligations, it seems that my vision is clearer.  Like the click click at the optometrists office, when the right lens, then the left, are finally set and the bottom row of the chart crystallizes, eyes lucid and wide open. 

This, of course, doesn't mean that I can see into the future.  No, in fact - far from it.  I am exploring options in San Diego, Northern California, and even back on the East Coast.  And I've literally no idea where I will end up.  But there is an ease about not knowing that is surprising.  

Some of that ease can be traced to a couple of hours I spent on the floor of my living room over a year ago.  At the time I was very happy... enjoying work, friendships and life.  But I also had a lingering unsettled feeling.  Friends, acquaintances and colleagues began asking... "What is it you want in your career?" and "Do you want a family?" and "Where do you want to be and live?" I realized, I didn't have those answers. Where was the inner dreamer that had led me thus far, that always had me striving for what's next?  The next job, the next home, the next, the next! After winging it through life quite successfully for a very long time... at last, I was the one who wanted to know the answers.  

And so it was that I decided to take over as the captain of my ship for a little bit, beginning with an hour on my living room floor.  I straddled dozens of little slips of paper with hand-written words on them.  The words were from a list of values that I'd read online: Family, Service, Possessions, Freedom, Success, Spirituality, Adventure, Creative Expression, Love, Money etc. etc.  My job was to sort through them.  This is what any self-respecting, perfectionist, self-help devotee would do... No?

  

It was surprisingly easy to identify what I valued most in life, and I'm happy to say that the exercise did provide me with a short list that I call my True North. Values are the things that make you feel weightless when you're living in the middle of them... and the things that keep you up at night when you are neglecting to hold them priority in your life.  

So here is my own magic pyramid...

1. PEACE - inner... always
2. HEALTH - total
3. LOVE - the "big rocks" and my future partner in crime
4. COMFORT - home, garden, "hood", 401k, financial stability, job I love
5. ADVENTURE - new places, new ways of seeing things
6. SERVICE - find a way to help... always
7. CREATIVITY - write, photograph, make cards, share it

  

With an inner compass, one can always check in on this moment's status and the next distant destination.  Of course, we never really "arrive" at that destination. Part of the joy, mystery and excitement of being human is to continually strive for the next goal and continual growth.

My True North helps direct my actions every day.  When I feel any type of interpersonal confrontation brewing, I try to remind myself swiftly that my own sense of inner peace trumps being right or wrong every time. When I'm looking at a particular job opportunity that "should" sound ideal, yet my inner sense of adventure and service doesn't ignite... I let it go. When I should be working on a freelance assignment, but my sister calls and asks me to come visit her and the family in Lake Tahoe...I say simply say yes. She is a "big rock" forever and always.

I find it interesting how such a small moment last year with a bunch of little cards, has made such a big difference to the trajectory of my life.  I'll admit to it... bouncing through life is a fun way to go.  But it is also nice to look out across the water and say... YES, THAT IS WHERE I AM HEADED. And of course, I can change course anytime.

As always, I wish you happy trails on your adventures of the soul and around the planet!

Good Medicine

I have literally just returned from a delicious after-dinner bike ride on the "ditch" - the open aqueduct slowly ambling around and down the mountain that I'm living on.  Alongside the ditch is a wide, rocky and gently sloping nine-mile path that is absolutely stop-your-breath beautiful and perfect for biking or hiking.

On a walk, one could peer at hundreds of sweet little things along the way, like bleeding hearts, flowering manzanita, a plethora of friendly dogs, and the occasional slug.  But on a ride, it's the bigger stuff that captures one's senses.  Rounding a bend I am smacked into absolute synapse silence - the wordless WOW - when my eyes meet a hundred miles of layered valley and evergreen-strewn mountains backlit by a setting sun. 

Or huge roots on the other side of the ditch that hang like a giant octopus. I imagine them gasping for the rich soil, their oxygen.  Somehow, the massive tree is as firmly earthed as any I've seen. Perhaps I feel in it a kindred spirit at present... seemingly uprooted and seeking - yet solidly anchored in the deep brown rusty earth.  I myself dangle over the unknown, while finding myself thoroughly grounded in the comfort of Family, a profound sense of Right Placement, and the amazing gift of Time.

Tonight's ride reminded me of one of the most important veins in my own happiness. That within me, I have my own antidote - my own secret stash of snake medicine and "mother's little helper" at my disposal at all times.

After a delightful day - walking, working, celebrating my mom's birthday with a tour of Empire Mine State Park, I found myself feeling anxious.  I began my necessary on-line search for "what's next," and as the information and questions began to whip around, I was in the middle of a storm of excitement, a sense of wide possibility, and a few hard slaps from my secret inner demon:  Doubt.  By 4:30 pm, I began rummaging through the refrigerator in hopes of eating my own weight in all foods consisting of wheat, corn, or rice. God bless the Atkins dieter... but I simply do not have it in me.

And so it was that I remembered my own inner medicine cabinet.  The bike.  Though I love biscuits (or a Corona with lime for that matter), they are weak substitutes for wind in the face, bug on the chin, death grip on the handle bars, flying down a hill on a bike.  Looking back, I realize this has always been my personal remedy.  I shipped my bike to Connecticut in 1999 when I moved across the country.  Almost immediately, I had to find my way- a new home, a new car, a new job - to bloom where I was planted.  And I did it on my bike.  I could take everything in, small doses, block by block, road by road.  And through that meandering, I found my way into a life that I loved.  

Today, I make the same effort. So forgive all my metaphors... of riding things out, of coasting, of mustering unknown strength, etc. It's simply where it's at for me.  And I know that we all have our individual "fix," our unique form of soul medicine. 

My sister, for example, lights holiday candles and plays Christmas music anytime of year when life gets overwhelming.  Her husband knows immediately that something is going on if he catches a whiff of pine and cinnamon clove in July. But the thing is, it works!  Another close friend heads straight for Target when she feels a dark cloud rising. And she insists that the "Retail Therapy" is still less expensive than psychotherapy.

What is your "go-to" remedy? Running? Meditation? Dance?  What sets you back on your path when you've veered off?  The trick for me (First, B... close the refrigerator door), is to open up the real medicine cabinet and reach for the right dose of the thing that provides me the most light.  Here's hoping your cabinet is filled with the best kind of medicine.  Happy trails!

Hitting the Road

My car arrived from Connecticut this past Monday.  I hadn't realized how much I missed the little gal until I had her back, covered in 3,000 miles worth of tawny filth.  The huge transport truck stopped on a busy highway on-ramp because it couldn't make any of the turns in town. We rushed through the exhange of cash and signatures, the driver wiped my windows and mirrors clean(ish), and we were both off again in under seven minutes! 

My first stop:  the "soft touch" car wash.  It took two times through to see my car in its original shiny black state - and you couldn't wipe the smile from my face.

The wheels definitely add some balance to life "at home."  I've had a wonderful first week in California spending time with my mom - we hiked the gorgeous canyon trails above the river at South Yuba State Park (the wildflowers are at the tail of their peak), organized my living space, ran more errands than I can count, and talked each others' ears off.  It's been lovely.  However, after living solo for fifteen years - it is good to have the option to take off on my own for a while.

So yesterday I did just that.  I went town-hopping all day and got lost on purpose.  Though I find myself exhausted each night, I know that it is from taking in so many new views, directions, people and details.  To be present and aware of everything around me is the best kind of living. It is exhilerating and in dramatic contrast to driving to work on auto-pilot each day.  The trick for me, a notorious "dabbler" who tends to bounce around a bit, will be to find that balance between change and consistency, adventure and stability, so that I can keep the feeling alive while I'm standing still. Because Life's constantly shifting energy is what makes for the wild ride - if we pay attention.
So... as for California:

Before the plane even landed in Sacramento, I could tell things would be different.  My seatmate, a young photographer and surfer (yes, this cliche was the REAL DEAL!), was a certified card-carrying member of the "medicinal marijuana" club.  OK, so clearly it's not a club - I don't have the lingo down just yet.  He showed me the "pass" that he was prescribed for his case of TMJ, and I said, "Really.  Really??!  So you're saying that instead of wearing my fabulously chic mouthguard every night - I could just eat a brownie?"  Who knew.

And of course there are other well-worn stereotypes here in Northern California.  Everyone does seem to be exceptionally friendly, laid back and service oriented. If you enter the local Save Mart Grocery, you better bring your poker face, because to look lost or perplexed, even for a moment, brings one or more employees ready to assist you to the proper aisle. Judging from recent experience, my standard look is lost and perplexed.

Yes, there are abundant dreadlocks, smart cars and food co-ops... as well as an equally visible contingency of bearded men in pick-up trucks, whose dogs likely vote Republican.  I've found the local Officers of the Peace a little up-tight too. Jaywalking, for instance, is seriously frowned upon in Nevada City.  More accurately, it is scowled upon with a look of crazy intimidation and total disgust. Oops.  

So as I acclimate to my new surroundings, I begin to think about what's next... job, destination, vision and life plan.  I'll start by looking back a little ways - because some of the best dreams are the ones that you've had forever.  And I'll take it in small bites, as my dear friend suggests.  Half of the fun is on the path... I promise to keep you posted along the way!

Here I am!

Well hello there...

I am happy to report that I am writing from Nevada City, California, just up the hill from Grass Valley, watching the snow fall from my mom's house. In April.  Mother Nature has a wicked awesome sense of humor (that was for the East Coast peeps), doesn't she?

But the thing is, the Doppler Radar report can't touch the peace that I'm feeling. Less than 48 hours ago, I arrived at Sacramento International Airport jetlagged and exhausted from the past several weeks of packing up a life on the East Coast.  Greeted by my mom, her husband, and my best friend - well let's just say that it was a nice way to kick things off.

I have quickly learned that a brief respite at one's parent's house is a true gift.  The view out the bay window that I am perched upon is full of lush Cedars and Douglas Firs, frisky gray squirrels and adorable little birdies, bright green grass and flowering trees draped in a wafer thin layer of wet white snow. Oh - and there's a bit of thunder and lightening too. 

I've been indulged with French toast and oatmeal for breakfast, and homemade soup, stuffed peppers and piping hot cornbread for dinner.   I can't take three steps without Mom or Dennis asking if I could use more light, something to eat or drink, a blanket, a nap.  And yes, I've taken several naps these past two days. The truth is it feels absolutely incredible to just relax and accept this kindness. I'm fairly certain that at some point, maybe even soon, the remarks will change to:  Did you turn the light out? Did you mean to leave that glass there? and How is the job hunt coming along?   - Yet I say all of this with a grand smile... because how often does one get to spend time like this with family - when everyone is healthy, happy and doing great.  It is a gift indeed.   

I am still wrapping my head around the incredible outpouring of generosity, love and assistance that I received from friends in Connecticut as I made my departure.  People are flat out amazing.  And I've more to write about many of them.  For now, let me just say the most heartfelt THANK YOU that I have ever written... to all of my friends who helped me make this jump or wished me well!  It was never goodbye... only farewell for now (which also happens to be my favorite line from my grandma... left on every voicemail she left over the past several years of her life).

So... with that, I bid you goodnight - and farewell for now! 

On Solid Ground

It's difficult to admit this, but I fell down this week. Hard. It wasn't a real fall, though the sensations were identical - off balance, uncertain of my footing, and then the slip - the adrenalin fueled, belly-flipping freefall of a vertical drop. It's panic of course, and it ends the very instant you hit the ground.

Yes... for all my talking and thinking and planning for a return to California... I lost my sense of direction. And for all my bright smiles and hopeful statements about the move, I called myself out as a liar. I was terrified.

Postcard scenes of California began to look like faded amateur Polaroids in my mind's eye and the thoughts crept in - perhaps too dry in summer, perhaps drier still in the job market, too expensive, too different, too "not New England."  With every new cost and hassle of UHauls and dollies, moving companies, gas prices, storage units and car transports, my recollection of why I decided to move in the first place faded.

And so it took this jarring fall - and several wise and loving friends and family - to get me to the quiet place that is always accessible. The space within that is untouchable by fear and always bouyed by hope and a sense of adventure.

On the ground, stunned and disoriented, I got to the core of what I was looking for.  California isn't a magic pill that will make life seem more right or exciting.  Life is always right.  Always exciting. But I do want to test this hypothesis and see what the litmus test shows. And I want the option to come back. 

So most of the original plans are now scratched.  My things will remain in a climiate controlled storage unit in Connecticut for an unspecified time, the car packed for transport with the essentials: bike, computer, and pictures and paintings.  Then on Aprli 26, off to California for several months or several hundred moons - where I will see how it feels to live again in a climate that feeds my soul year-round, visit my family, look out at a different ocean and marvel at its vastness.  And say yes to new experiences and this next grand adventure. 

How far are any of us willing to test a hypothesis? To trust our insticts and go find out rather than question or possibly regret?  I know that in my case, I will always fight fear.  And I will always question complacency. And sometimes falling down is the best possible step on my path. It forces me to be really present - and to adjust my direction.  What have we got to lose?    

~ Big hugs and thanks to those who helped pick me up this week.

My Ford Oracle

Around the new year, I had a startling experience in the parking lot of our local mall. It was mid-day, sunny and bright. Key in, brake off, pulling away... and I felt my right foot fall forward. Pumping nothing but air several times, I looked down to see that I no longer HAD an accelerator pedal. It was literally lying on the floor, looking as useful as packing peanuts the day after Christmas.

There was no time to make sense of it - wherever my car stopped, it would stay. So I slowly pulled to a space a distance away from other vehicles and pressed my brakes.

"I've never seen this happen before," said the tow truck driver, the mechanic and the nice man walking by. No kidding. I won't bore you with details. A simple cable broke. But it would take several days to fix over the holiday weekend.

This meant none of the usual "busyness" for me - no errands, no gym, no post office. No bank deposit, no dinner with the girls, no grocery store. I had been moving at mock speed for quite a while... neglecting yoga and writing in lieu of holiday parties, a wedding, too much work and recently a new freelance project, and a quasi intriguing new dating prospect.

The quiet allowed me to think about how I spent my days, and for that matter, how I wanted to spend my future days.

Once my car was returned, I lurched back onto the freeway of life, gaining speed. But I did make some changes: stepping down from a board that no longer fed me, trading shifts of after-work events with a colleague, and within a month and a half... making the life-altering decision to leave my home in Connecticut to return to California where I grew up.

This was a big one. Some days that decision feels right - other days I question it to its core. Why leave the only "true" home I have ever known? Am I heading for a new adventure or running from my fear of complacency? Can I really break up with Connecticut while I am still so in love with her?

And thus was my state of fear and longing when my car once again "spoke." I arrived at my girlfriend's house two days ago and smelled something hot near the front of the hood. Oh god. Now, as I tend towards paranoia, my friend lovingly suggested that I wait until the following day to panic. Good plan. The next day, the faint odor became a reeking burning rubber and scorched asbestos stench. Probably nothing.

This morning, my mechanic explained that my left front caliper froze in the locked position, burning through a significant portion of my brake pad and hose. In other words... even as my foot pressed on the accelerator, moving me towards any and all destinations... my brakes were on.

Of course. The life metaphor. The Ford Oracle. The hatchback soothsayer.

I get it - I haven't fully opened her up on the roads and said, YES... let's do this thing! Let's go to California and see what she has in store for me. Rather, I acquiesced to a series of road bumps and said, OhnnnKayyy - I'll go... like a grumpy six year old not ready for bed.

I know that now is the time to embrace the free-fall and let the road take me. Brakes off. Pedal down. Shifting to a higher gear... with a giant smile on my face. And we're OFF!