The speed of light
Change tends to happen for me in a slow but steady crawl that suddenly turns into a screaming dive off the edge of a galaxy, with no warning of the transition.
2 weeks ago, I was looking at houses in Mexico, no idea where I was going and happy with that. Sort of. Increasingly stressed with that, because I had this strong and growing stronger sense that I had stopped learning and was just doing again. It felt like my discontent was stemming from me insisting on a course of action that was no longer necessary. But I still wanted to travel. I am addicted to the feeling of being in a new place, addicted to discovery and movement.
The addiction part was making me nervous.
So. A couple of days ago I read an ad on the housesitting site, a couple looking for a caretaker for their farm for an extended period of time. The length of time wasn't really what I was looking for, almost a year, and it was in Washington state, which I was a little torn about. Beautiful, but weirdly unfriendly people. And lots of rain. But I read the ad over a couple of times, and without stopping to really think I replied to it. And as soon as I had done that, my entire body expanded into this anxious, vibrating mass of "OH MY GOD I NEED THIS", and I waited on tenterhooks for them to respond. Which they did fairly quickly, within the hour, with a number for me to call. Which I did, almost immediately. I spoke to the husband, and got a good vibe from him. A kind of gruff teddy bear vibe. And then she sent me her number, and we chatted, and she's a firecracker from the South who's owned the farm since she was 35. We just CLICKED, all caps appropriate. She was blunt, and funny, and mystical, and brilliant. She believed whatever the fuck she wanted to believe, and she believed it with passion and grounding. Oh, I liked talking to this woman. And the more we talked, the more everything just fell into a perfect space that had been carved out for a long time and which the combination of us just fit.
Except, my first thought upon reading the ad was of my brother and sister-in-law and niece. It felt like the place was meant for them, too, and I could picture everything very clearly in mind. I talked to my brother that night, after talking to Zoli. I told him about the farm, and asked him what they would think about coming out and visiting, taking a time out from Bozeman and crazy jobs and rent and winter. He was, of course, excited at the idea. But more than that, it was a switch thrown and a decision made.
Everything has snowballed after that. There were a couple bumpy patches, because I was communicating in terms of visiting, and they were speaking in terms of moving. They talked to Zoli, and her and Callie just burned up in a pyre of like mindedness, like I knew they would. I had a momentary twinge of jealousy, realizing that my dream farm was turning into their dream farm. But I quickly realized there was plenty of room for it to be our dream farm, for however long we were there. That our focuses were completely different, hers on healing others and raising her daughter, mine on healing myself and growing everything around me into a strong, tangible, green foundation.
My reality encompasses the notion of connections that vibrate across space and time, a melding of physics and metaphysics into a whole that makes me very comfortably uncomfortable. This farm feels like a doorway, feels connected to the 250 year old farmhouse I grew up in, feels like a way to close a circle that's been taunting me with it's incompletion for a long time. This woman and her husband feel like old friends, met by chance after having lost touch, and tendrils of connection instantly touching and being welcomed home.
The lack of doubt I have about this decision, to settle into a green space and grow, makes me incredibly happy. I will have the freedom to travel, but I won't have the necessity. I'll have the responsibility of caretaking, but it won't be overwhelming. I'll have the option to add as much as I can handle to my responsibilities, and then some. I'll be pushed out of comfort, only to discover that my comfort zone can expand exponentially. I will be healthy, wealthy, and wise. Or, instead, my own mantra - Healthy, Happy, and Whole. It's a lot of expectation to put on a place, and is bound to lead to disappointment. But everything leads to disappointment when you're more a dreamer than a doer. What matters is the situation being fluid and strong enough to handle the disappointment while leading your expectations down a better path. This feels like that kind of situation.
Oh, it feels right. It feels good. I am excited.
2 weeks ago, I was looking at houses in Mexico, no idea where I was going and happy with that. Sort of. Increasingly stressed with that, because I had this strong and growing stronger sense that I had stopped learning and was just doing again. It felt like my discontent was stemming from me insisting on a course of action that was no longer necessary. But I still wanted to travel. I am addicted to the feeling of being in a new place, addicted to discovery and movement.
The addiction part was making me nervous.
So. A couple of days ago I read an ad on the housesitting site, a couple looking for a caretaker for their farm for an extended period of time. The length of time wasn't really what I was looking for, almost a year, and it was in Washington state, which I was a little torn about. Beautiful, but weirdly unfriendly people. And lots of rain. But I read the ad over a couple of times, and without stopping to really think I replied to it. And as soon as I had done that, my entire body expanded into this anxious, vibrating mass of "OH MY GOD I NEED THIS", and I waited on tenterhooks for them to respond. Which they did fairly quickly, within the hour, with a number for me to call. Which I did, almost immediately. I spoke to the husband, and got a good vibe from him. A kind of gruff teddy bear vibe. And then she sent me her number, and we chatted, and she's a firecracker from the South who's owned the farm since she was 35. We just CLICKED, all caps appropriate. She was blunt, and funny, and mystical, and brilliant. She believed whatever the fuck she wanted to believe, and she believed it with passion and grounding. Oh, I liked talking to this woman. And the more we talked, the more everything just fell into a perfect space that had been carved out for a long time and which the combination of us just fit.
Except, my first thought upon reading the ad was of my brother and sister-in-law and niece. It felt like the place was meant for them, too, and I could picture everything very clearly in mind. I talked to my brother that night, after talking to Zoli. I told him about the farm, and asked him what they would think about coming out and visiting, taking a time out from Bozeman and crazy jobs and rent and winter. He was, of course, excited at the idea. But more than that, it was a switch thrown and a decision made.
Everything has snowballed after that. There were a couple bumpy patches, because I was communicating in terms of visiting, and they were speaking in terms of moving. They talked to Zoli, and her and Callie just burned up in a pyre of like mindedness, like I knew they would. I had a momentary twinge of jealousy, realizing that my dream farm was turning into their dream farm. But I quickly realized there was plenty of room for it to be our dream farm, for however long we were there. That our focuses were completely different, hers on healing others and raising her daughter, mine on healing myself and growing everything around me into a strong, tangible, green foundation.
My reality encompasses the notion of connections that vibrate across space and time, a melding of physics and metaphysics into a whole that makes me very comfortably uncomfortable. This farm feels like a doorway, feels connected to the 250 year old farmhouse I grew up in, feels like a way to close a circle that's been taunting me with it's incompletion for a long time. This woman and her husband feel like old friends, met by chance after having lost touch, and tendrils of connection instantly touching and being welcomed home.
The lack of doubt I have about this decision, to settle into a green space and grow, makes me incredibly happy. I will have the freedom to travel, but I won't have the necessity. I'll have the responsibility of caretaking, but it won't be overwhelming. I'll have the option to add as much as I can handle to my responsibilities, and then some. I'll be pushed out of comfort, only to discover that my comfort zone can expand exponentially. I will be healthy, wealthy, and wise. Or, instead, my own mantra - Healthy, Happy, and Whole. It's a lot of expectation to put on a place, and is bound to lead to disappointment. But everything leads to disappointment when you're more a dreamer than a doer. What matters is the situation being fluid and strong enough to handle the disappointment while leading your expectations down a better path. This feels like that kind of situation.
Oh, it feels right. It feels good. I am excited.
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