Change is about facing the devil voices that arise when any opening gives them a chance. Routine is a safeguard against hearing the doubts. Routine can also be a flatline, too close to neither high nor low to feel alive. At least for me.
So I am taking off, heading out west into the most planned 3 months of my life. Might not sound like a risk, with all that planning, but even planning something is a risk for this rebellious child against being told what to do. Normally, I can’t stand it, even if I am the one telling myself what to do!
“What am I doing?” What’s going to happen” “Why do I think any, much less all or most, of these dreams are just going to happen because I am stirring the pot?” “Why is a great future going to materialize simply because I am acting as if it will?” “What happens when I come back and nothing has changed – except I have sold at a give-away price all my expensive winter clothes, my warm rugs, my beloved nicknacks, heaters, books, organic cloth napkins and everything else that I spent hours and hours researching to make sure I was buying the best for me and the planet at the cheapest price possible?” “What happens to all that time I now “wasted” because I sold it all to hope for a better life?”
“What happens when I realize how good I had it but now it is all gone?”
“What happens when it is worth it, when I know that I don’t own those sweaters but I do own memories of weeks in Alaska, weeks in Orgon, the two states up until this summer I haven’t visited out of the 50 that make up this incredible landscape called the USA?” “What happens if I do fall in love? What happens if I don’t?” “What happened last summer, and the one before and the one before that I can pinpoint to say yeah, this risk wasn’t worth it?” Nothing. Nothing says don’t do it. Only the devils in the head do.
Fortunately, not only can I counter their attack with my own logic of resilience but I have an incredible group of friends, the very ones I am leaving, that have my back. That support craziness, that squeeze me tight with hugs of admiration and strength and encouragement.
In other words, Thank You to all of you who believe in me and the dream of opening up to the unknown, who believe in the hope in possibility over the OK-ness of reality. Send me your mailing – snail mailing – address so you can get a postcard of gratitude. Or just a nod to my efforts to bring more artistic expression into the future of Elli.
Life is so very good in RVA. And I’m banking on better, even when I honestly don’t know what it looks like or why I need it. BTW, the problem with photos is I can’t possibly take one of every person who smiled at me today, who made me laugh, who helped me out, who gave me warmth, who gave me a drink when I needed it, who assisted me with first aid, who shared a meal, who made my day a very great one. #headingtothemountainsanyway