In the two weeks since I started jotting down those ideas that would become the hypothesis for my current life, I have, in every part of body, soul, and mind, undergone a radical metamorphosis of being. A transformation so thorough that I have struggled (still do) to write about it.
The ideas shared in the post A Woman’s Search for Meaning really settled in as beliefs, good and strong and true. The way my life unfolds and how I express myself have oriented toward the notion that fulfillment (happiness, spiritual connection, joy etc) REALLY IS available no matter the limitations I live within – and therefore Limitation itself has become more like an adventurous ropes course and less like prison walls. (At my summer camp the ropes course was also called the confidence course, and I finally get it, more than 25 years after I first did the dang thing).
I don’t want to push the ‘acceptance of what is’ too much because I’ve read it to death and it’s bordering on cliche. There is some Thing beyond acceptance, a destination at which one can arrive only having seen what acceptance really is – maybe there is a Sanskrit word for it, or a Greek one, or a Yurok one. I don’t know the word myself. This intangible is surrender cohabiting with intention in interstitial space. Surrender + Intention = this thing that’s happening to me – the yin and yang and unity. (Imagine my mind blown ok?)
Pretty much immediately after writing about the ‘hypothesis,’ opportunity upon opportunity opened up for me. I circled up with some very special women and together we are creating magick and healing and love. One of my bikes was stolen and it was irritating but it’s barely phasing me. I got invited on a stellar trip up North and for the first time in 10 years making the plans wasn’t my job, so I got to relax into the immersion of every.single.moment. I feel like a tourist in my own life; in the foreign yet familiar landscape of ‘the flow.’
Post-epic-adventure with awesome people, this past week was a bit crazy. It was like being in a canoe on the ocean during a storm. It’s kinda beautiful and terrifying and the kind of ride you’d definitely choose if you knew beforehand you’d survive to tell about it…Know what I mean? I barely felt like my feet were on the ground as I faced unexpected changes at work, the worst and most painful fight I’ve ever had with my mom, making amends to someone I owed them to, and not getting the support I longed for in a moment of excruciating vulnerability.
Somehow though, and I attribute this fact directly to the new method of living I’m playing around with, I didn’t let any of these things actually ‘get me.’ I moved through them all intentionally feeling all the feelings they gave me without getting attached, and I grew wings. But let me not forget to mention how by Thursday I was looking for a new job in a new city and considering using my savings to buy a used 4wd vehicle with almost 200,000 miles on it, selling everything, having a bottle of whiskey, and abandoning everything I’ve worked so hard for in the last year. The difference though, is this.
Even as the escapist fantasies started dripping dopamine heavily into my system, I could literally feel something in my brain or soul or mind, reroute itself. Neuroplasticity is real, yall! The old faulty wiring no longer has the right of way in my system, so I made a really good decision and also for the possibly the first time ever, it was natural, easy, and desirable, and I instantaneously let go of the desire to run away.
Instead, I went for a really long walk around my neighborhood. I couldn’t go on a hike in the mountains or a drive through the canyons or splash around in a spring. There was no strong man to hold me or best friend to let me cry it out. There was just me and the neighborhood. My neighborhood, with yards unexplored and alleys uninvestigated and the weather chilled enough that a long evening walk seemed more like destiny than decision.
Strength. I’ve got a lot of it. Endurance? A shit ton. Awareness? The blinders will never go back on. I’m not even gonna deny that these traits are part of me. They are me. I am them. There have been times when survival was my goal and at the present moment it’s something to be grateful for even if it hasn’t always felt that way.
On my long walk about I resonated with the strength, endurance, and awareness that I’ve denied (not out of humility, trust me) for far too long. I heard the songs of those characteristics and saw their meaning in the flowers and trees and beautifully decorated homes and vintage vehicles. The walk was on purpose, to save me and the mission I’m on, to experience divine happiness at any time and anywhere. It was seeking and it was finding. It was releasing the emotions and giving them gratitude and feeling the water calm enough that I could get out of the boat and walk on land again.
I don’t know what gets most people out of their comfort zones, but nothing does it for me quiet like unexpected, raw, turbulent emotion and the tranquility that follows. I guess I like getting shaken up a bit from time to time – it puts things back into perspective once the world settles.
The choice I made was to look for peace. I gazed deeply into the be-stamened Opuntia flowers. I listened to the bees collecting nectar and pollen from Olneya. I imagined myself as the hummingbird dancing with honeysuckle. I found treasures in the alley. And in true Libra fashion I intellectualized garden patterns and future photography projects and planned to learn the names of every species growing in the hood. It was magick.
Now I don’t know how to end this post, except to say that so far, I am incredibly humbled by the circumstances of life, by the slow and painful process of learning to let go of expectations, and the unfathomable joy that comes from being free, being alive, and being comfortable for the first time, in my own skin.
It’s also become glaringly obvious that remaining organized and dedicated to the practice of this experiment are essential to getting anything produced i.e. posted. So much happens in a two week period that I really can’t wait that long to start brainstorming a new post – it has to happen within 24 hours of posting the last one, or the magickal details get lost (sort of).
Candice Near and Far 