Four years ago I landed safely in San Diego after a two week drive across country with my trusty sidekick Mona The Subaru (and some crazy lady I picked up at the Albuquerque airport – AKA my Mom). I had packed up my life in order to chase the calling I felt for the west coast. I had it in my mind (and heart), that San Diego was my Utopia, it was where everything would be “right,” where I’d finally feel at Home, where I could grow some roots. I’d never been to California before, only had a vague idea of what to expect of San Diego, no job lined up, and only a few people I knew personally out there. But I had to go.
That two week drive from New Hampshire, down the east coast, heading west from Atlanta, to New Orleans, trekking diagonally up through Texas (THE LONGEST THREE DAYS OF MY LIFE, good God), falling in love with Santa Fe, and reveling in the confusing contrast of the Grand Canyon – feeling inexplicably minuscule and massively expansive at the same time – I had never felt more ME. It became my barometer in the forthcoming years of how to know when I’d found “it,” the Winks from the Universe showing me the way back to my Path.
But San Diego wasn’t a fit. Not then at least. Something didn’t quite feel right. Even though I eventually found a “good job” (after surviving a harrowing attempt at a casino job playing Black Jack…), and had the chance to reconnect with an old friend and deepen our friendship living so much closer to each other. Something didn’t click, and then my Grams got sick, and I realized how very far away the other side of the country was.
And so I changed my mind, moving back to the east coast after six months.
Maybe to someone else this move, and subsequent move-back, looks like a “mistake,” or flakiness, or lack of direction on my part – cool, I can see how it might not fit your idea of having it figured out.
Because I don’t. I decisively do NOT have it figured out.
I change my mind. Often. I take the experiences I’ve been gifted, and make damn sure that each time I move forward, I check in and feel into what I’ve learned so far. But it isn’t a step-by-step process that I’ve laid out to follow day-by-day.
“I am consistently inconsistent.” (Thank you Alexis Neely) And if that’s uncomfortable for you, can I ask why? What about my perceived lack of linear direction impacts YOU directly so that you feel you need to question my strength, my ability, my COURAGE to make my life freaking EPIC?
I don’t have it figured out. I feel lost a lot of the time. And sometimes it’s really fucking scary. But somehow, there’s some piece of me that has a lot more Trust than others might have me believe that I deserve.
So I make choices, I change my mind; but the one consistency will ALWAYS be my Faith that somehow, shit’s always gonna work out.
Because THAT is the Plan.
Also, Ear Worm warning… You’re welcome
** To read about my cross-country adventure, check out my (infrequently updated, but well-loved) travel blog:https://mymapisupsidedown.wordpress.com/…/o…/solo-road-trip/ **