Here we are. Right in the middle of it.
I thought I’d tell the story from the start, but we’ll fill in the gaps later on.
I’m imagining the woman I want to be in the world and it seems we’re on our way to her. I didn’t realize what I was going to let go in coming here, but I’m glad I did.
I hardly remember the apartment I was so sad to leave — feels long ago, though it’s only been 9 days.
I feel I could stay here forever. Nearly everything I could want is here, holding me— aside from maybe deep abiding companionship. But who knows, maybe that’ll walk through the gate one day.
I stopped fighting. At least it seems I did. Fighting to make work what really wasn’t working. Fighting ideas projected from others about how to be in the world. The beauty is I feel more connected and supported than I did before — when I put into words what my heart really cares about, what I see in all its detail and nuance.
There is no FOMO, and I’ve yet to experience much of a culture shock. We’re going slow. So slow. Slower than most like to go. Finding that place where time isn’t really a thing.
I look forward to my breakfast and tea every morning. I am curious about everything. I don’t want to be anyone’s guru, to project an idealistic life void of its struggles.
I pray that I come in humbly here. I feel humbled to be here and grateful to myself for pushing through the thick cloud to simply arrive.
All is green and wild and kept in the kindest way. So much of my life has been manufactured, disconnected from the earth in its own agenda. There is no harmony in drywall — just white dust.
All I want to build is aching within me and I feel terrified with where to begin.
So I’m starting here. Without any answers, a glass of water in hand. The breeze is so soft and cool. There are now machines humming loudly around me, but it doesn’t matter — we’ve already entered in.
How wonderful this one life is we get to live.
Thanks for tuning in 🤍