Archives for the month of: April, 2012

Checking in with the cyber world and with myself. I’m trying to get back into the habit of writing (blogging) more often, because when I’m deep in the throws of the chitter chatter of my mind, I’ve found that putting a lot of it down in writing, right here on this blog, truly helps me to make sense of all it; to divide it into categories, to shelve the things that matter least and to prioritize and face what is real and true and mold it into something a little less… noisy.

With that being said:

I’m making some big changes, the most tangible being a move down to the city. Mountain life has offered me a great deal of peace in the time since I’ve lived here (about nine months) but it’s also caused me a lot of strife and inner chaos because in the back of my mind is this little voice (well, not always so little to be quite honest) that’s just screamed at me, sometimes drowning out all other thought, that I’m missing something. In hindsight, I needed this time to reflect on much of what I’m doing. Why I’m doing it, or why I’m not. To reflect on the choices I’ve made that have brought me here, those which have led me to this place in my life and to this headspace. But I’m over all of the analyzing and sitting with myself and this intentioned solitary quest for clarity, because I’ve looked and I’ve looked and I know I’ve found something because I’m sitting here today making the decision to leave this place. And that decision is based on a catalyst… and catalysts only exist because we know what we want, and also what we don’t. It’s time for me to gather up all of the fruit from this experience {am I creating a metaphor from an image I get when I think of the word ‘fruitful’? Because that word is flashing in neon letters on repeat through my mind right now so I need to use it somehow. And I like fruit.} and throw it all in a sack and sling it over my shoulder and get a move on. I promise to carry that fruit with me, though, and if you like fruit I’ll share some with you. Might wait for it to ripen a bit more, but I have a feeling this move will cause it to do so quite quickly… because fruit has a way of doing that.

I’m not fearful anymore, not hesitant to experience what might elicit a good deal of pain… because at least it’s something, and that’s more than I can say about what’s happening right now, while I sit here. I’ve sat here long enough, I’ve waited long enough. I’m done waiting. Done observing. Ready to jump into it, swim around a bit. I’m not afraid to sink, because I’ll float to the surface again soon enough… a nice thing about life is that we experience a lot, and the more we experience, the less and less afraid we become about experiencing new things because the longer we live, the more confident we become that we’ll continue on. The more able and proficient we become in gathering what serves us and allowing it to grow and the more recognizant we become of the things that do no longer. We learn that negativity always dissipates, that things always get better, that experiences tend to pile on top of each other and allow us to create something that’s more than just a quiescent existence for ourselves: mine is built on ripened fruit and reminders to sink or swim and other literary devices and real life circumstances contextualized by a daily ebb and flow.

***

I feel something for these mountains, something strong and powerful but tender and good and I know I will return, but now is the time to leave for a bit… and I’m confident that when I return, it will be with something better. Something I don’t need to cling to, or hide behind, or make excuses because of.

I’m letting go of all of that for now, and I’m taking a leap. Or in my case, a trip down this canyon. Because while the future is always unknown, one thing is true: it is there.

Spring is here… the season of rebirth, renewal, reawakening. Time to begin anew. I will remember this winter and feel grateful for it, not regretful.  Hold it close as a reminder of what was… allow it to become a catalyst. Because I’m over this lack of energy I’ve experienced for months now, over being tired. Over feeling unable [or unwilling] to devote myself to finding the answer to the question I ask myself each morning: Why am I here?

The time is now.

Spring has reminded me that everything is fleeting: the darkness is temporary, but so is this morning’s sunshine. So today, I am creating the change I’ve ached for all winter long. I am inspiring movement within and around my being. I have chosen to put myself first: to regard the signs as they present themselves to me, to accept their meaning, to stifle a hunger for endeavor no longer.

I’m making a choice: I’m pressing ‘play’ and indulging in the chance for something truly sensational.

***

The grass is not, in fact, always greener on the other side of the fence. Fences have nothing to do with it. The grass is greenest where it is watered. When crossing over fences, carry water with you and tend the grass wherever you may be. (Robert Fulghum)