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.