inspiration – I'm too old for this …

discovery, inspiration, life lessons, realization, taking chances

fear of french and other imperfections

December 6, 2018 8 Comments

Parfait

Are you picturing the heavenly concoction made with creamy layers of luscious ice cream, stacked high in a fancy glass with a dollop of whipped cream and a cherry on top? Don’t. I am not referring to that yummy dessert, but the French word for perfect. Damn, was I still craving perfection? I thought I had kicked the habit along with sugar and wheat. Guess not, for there it is, tempting me again like a guilty pleasure.

I’ve always wanted to speak French and my daughter-in-law Parisienne generates additional aspiration. Taking classes in high school led me to try various taped programs over the years…stacks of cassettes, primers, and dictionaries leaving me with considerable understanding, but not enough to communicate with anyone. Which, after all, is the purpose of language, isn’t it?

Fluency requires a comprehensive program, yet each time I contemplated taking class, I was struck dumb. I couldn’t think, my brain scrambled then went blank, and every word that I ever learned in French disappeared entirely. Frightened to death, I was unable to open my mouth to say anything. So, why would an otherwise intelligent adult be seized by fear of a foreign language?

La Juge

Diving deep into my DNA and psyche, I remember that for me, being an intelligent woman was always conditional. I’m supposed to be perfect—both visually and cognitively. If looking good is paramount and I open my mouth and sound stupid, it makes me look bad. Therefore I can’t even try to do anything that may cast aspersions, so instead, I do what I’m good at. There’s no fear when you’re assured a favorable outcome.

If you excel at many things, you tend to lose perspective and forget that you’re limiting yourself. You may not even be aware that you’re afraid of a faux pas. How many of us are like that? I can’t be the only one halting life experiences dead in their tracks, refusing to try in avoidance of my inner critic. Because, let’s face it, very few of us actually get ridiculed by anyone other than ourselves anymore.

Once attaining a certain amount of confidence or enlightenment, we leave many of our naysayers behind. However, that inner judge received its’ training from the major influencers in our lives. Parents, siblings, spouses, teachers, or friends planted seeds in our brains that have flowered and propagated, becoming louder and stronger than any words ever spoken from their lips.

Some are beautiful, others horribly ugly, but they run our lives nonetheless. That is, until we have an awareness of them. Only then can we shut them up.

“I’ve made a vow to do things that scare me…take me out of my comfort zone…aren’t expected from me…to strip away pretense and embrace authenticity. Really, it’s time to live my life without restrictions and insecurities—self or otherwise imposed. I’m too old for that!”

That quote, from my very first blog post in April 2016, evokes my mission toward personal growth, taking chances no matter how much it scares me. And I have been, but was obviously unaware of my original default programming still running in the background. I need to close the window and update the operating system. C’est possible?

Nouveau et different

Reminding myself that the reason I wasn’t skilled at French was because I hadn’t learned it yet, seemed obvious, but not to my brain. The limbic system had shifted to high alert—particularly the amygdala, or emotion center, and the hippocampus, which forms new memories about past experiences.

What does that mean? I’m no scientist, but after reading explanations from a few of them, here’s my take on it.

We know that memories and emotions are stored in your body, which includes your brain. Any new experience will remind you of an old one; whether good, bad, or indifferent. That spark of recognition causes you to respond in a similar fashion to the last time you had it.

In order to push past an old emotion, you must create a new memory involving your current experience. When you notice an old negative response coming up, break the pattern by doing something different this time.

So as your stomach turns and the heat rises through your body until your ears burn and colors your face to match a Spanish onion, move forward anyway. Jump up and down, scream, laugh, call a friend…whatever it takes to thaw your pre-conditioned, frozen state of mind.

Then, take action toward your desire.

By doing so, you’ll change the synapse in your brain and whatever caused that fearful feeling will never be quite so painful again. The worst is over. You’ve proven to yourself that you are brave.

Many are so terrified of their feelings that they don’t get out of bed in the morning. Don’t let that be you. Focus on your goal, or how much worse you’d feel if you never even tried to achieve it, and forget about the terror. I’ve discovered that it gets easier each time. Really.

***Winged Victory***
**The Louvre Museum, Paris**

Courage

I finally submit my test to the Alliance, speak with the placement advisor, and register for classes that begin the following Tuesday. Stumbling through a few French words when requesting my course manuals made me flush (yep, Spanish-onion-red) and my heart pound, but I survived.

The first class and homework gave me vertigo, nausea, and a headache. My classmates also expressed anxiety, which, despite our distress, made me feel better somehow. By the third class, we could laugh at our errors and actually had petites victoires to rejoice in. I’m still overwhelmed, and expect to be for a long time to come, but have enrolled in the next semester and will continue on until I reach some level of proficiency.

Refusing to let my feelings of insecurity determine my actions, I’m focusing on my desire, approaching those irregular verb, gender, and conjugation obstacles with both confidence and doubt. Acknowledging my fear of imperfection and charging ahead in spite of it, seems to be an effective way to overcome it and heal.

La Fin Parfaite

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friendship, inspiration, life lessons, loss, relationships

how the death of my dear friend brought clarity to my life

December 1, 2017 No Comments

One of my cherished friends, Gerri, died in her sleep last month and though I am deeply saddened, I am grateful for the wake up call. It reaffirmed my commitment to live a full, authentic life and reminded me that she was doing just that.

After the death of her husband, David, Gerri sublet an apartment in New York for a few months. She “love, love, loved it!” and has yearned to live there ever since. I always encouraged her to go and have the adventure she was longing for, but many family and friends had different opinions.

*a long, long time ago…with David and Gerri*

“Start over at your age!? Why would you leave your gorgeous apartment, where you were so happy with David, where you have so many people who love you… for what?” As was her style, Gerri was thoughtful and considerate with her deliberation, weighing all of her options, as well as the effect her move would have on others. Her final decision was not a whim…she was going.

The last time Gerri and I were together, we lolled around on the floor of her empty living room like teenagers, laughing and making plans for the future. She was ecstatic showing me photos of her perfect little apartment on Central Park South. We traded gifts, each bringing something of our own to share with the other as personal mementoes. I promised to come visit as soon as I was settled in California. That was a little over a month ago.

Do not put off until tomorrow what you can do today

“Don’t put it off; do it now! Don’t rest until you do. Save yourself like a gazelle escaping from a hunter, like a bird fleeing from a net.” —Proverbs 6 verses 4 & 5.

Maybe you may know you have to escape, but are unsure of where you’re fleeing to. If you’re confused by your options or think you have none at all, you may be clinging to a distant memory, dreams of how it could be, or a reality that isn’t quite right.

Perhaps you don’t need to escape, but want something different. You can picture your new life in every detail, but feel restricted by or responsible for family and friends, abiding by their expectations and ignoring your own desires.

Sometimes it’s money or position that stops us from moving on. Many think we couldn’t possibly afford to leave our current lives, but are we constrained or just unwilling to adjust our standard of living in exchange for freedom or adventure?

Paralyzed with fear of the unknown, disapproval, or privation causes many of us to do nothing. I’ve suffered dreadful apprehension involving all of those and like Gerri, I spent a great deal of time considering my options and the consequences of each.

Something inside me clicked into place

When the initial shock at the sad news wore off, I recognized a resolve I hadn’t felt before. I had been traveling along at a nice, comfortable pace, consistently moving forward and letting go of what was no longer necessary in my life. I trusted that all the details would be revealed to me as I eased on down the road.

That road was taking me back and forth from Chicago to Oakland on a regular basis to see clients, friends, and family. Unable to see what lie ahead for me, I hung onto my lifeline in Chicago. It is challenging to have one foot in each world, but clarity regarding anything more had been elusive until right this instant. Now I knew I had to jump with both feet.

If you sense you should be somewhere else, doing something else, listen very carefully to what’s being expressed. Gerri’s death served as a megaphone right into my soul. I could feel it in my heart and hear it as if she were shouting into my ear.

“DO IT NOW!”

Whatever it is you’re dreaming of, aching for, want in your life, or need to escape from—do it now, don’t wait! If you don’t have all the puzzle pieces, start with those you have. Even baby steps will get you there eventually. The important thing is to take that step in the right direction—immediately.

Not sure what direction that is? “Try on” places or things to see how they fit. Join a new class or activity or go to a place and live there for awhile as Gerri and I did in New York and California. Keep searching until inspiration speaks and do what it tells you to do, leaving what’s unnecessary behind.

“All the time in the world”, could turn out to be much less time than you think. It doesn’t matter if you’re eighteen or eighty, we can’t afford to waste any of it. Don’t you want to be living in alignment and truth for as long as you can? I know I do. Gerri’s death magnified the reality of that as never before.

Fly Away Home

Flying off into the sunrise, I’m committed to living a full, authentic life. I have no idea what it will look like or how it will play out, but it’s important that I go. Really go. How can I develop my future while remaining grounded in the past? Taking one step forward and two steps back just won’t work anymore. I’m planting one foot in Oakland, with the other poised and ready to move forward from there.

Those people in my life dedicated to growth and open to exploration, will remain connected, wherever we are. Others, traveling a different path, will grow smaller as we trek in opposite directions away from each other. Then there’s Gerri. Of all the people I thought I would never see again, she was not one of them, so I will visit her often…to her place in my heart.

–in loving memory–

GERALDINE HILT SHUTE

Free Guide — Letting Go — The Manifesto

Do you feel like you’re just going through the motions?

Feeling stuck without knowing why or the next step?

Join me and others on our path to discovering our true selves.

discovery, inspiration, life lessons, realization, relationships, taking chances

let go and move on

November 7, 2017 2 Comments

5 Lessons I Learned During My Life’s Most Difficult Situation

I had to let go of my husband. Not because he was cheating or lying, but because his illness and attitude changed him into a totally different guy, one who was unbearable to live with if I wanted to maintain my health and sanity. The two years of our separation have taken us through hell, but we are finally on good terms. As his health is worsening, it’s hard not to be pulled back into old patterns, but I know I must keep letting go and moving forward.

That’s difficult for me to report here, because once this posts, Robert will be reading it. I tried a million different ways to sugarcoat my words in fear of his disapproval or retaliation, but I got stuck every time. The words wouldn’t flow until they were honest and direct. I don’t want to jeopardize the recent truce we have negotiated, but I need to take the chance and let that go. If I’m not fully committed to telling my truth, how can I inspire you to tell yours?

Moving On

Well over a year after our separation, I left Chicago to get a new perspective on my life, driving cross-country to stay with my daughter and her wife in California. After a terrific summer with them, the voice of the Universe told me to go to Chicago to “clear things” and to stay “until it’s done.” I took that as a cue to return and empty the apartment in preparation for sale, but as it turned out, I was able to clear and let go of much more than my possessions. One of which was the animosity between Robert and I. Could be why the whole process took far longer than anticipated!

After three months of packing and purging in Chicago, I was headed back to meet the truck with my furniture and boxes in California. A week before my scheduled flight, Robert was informed that his leukemia had reached a level where chemotherapy was required and he was admitted to the hospital. My mind raced back to all those previous hospital stays — what had transpired during, between, and after them. I was distressed for him, but couldn’t help seeing it as a roadblock in my path to departure.

Make the Leap

Have you heard the story of the frog in boiling water? If you place her into a pot that’s already boiling, the frog will jump right out, immediately aware of the danger.

However, if you place her into a pot of cool water and then set it on the stove to boil, she won’t notice the water slowly getting warmer, it’ll feel natural and comfortable while the life is being cooked right out of her.

I had been living in a very warm pot. After Robert’s near death a few years ago, he returned home changed, “my guy” was gone. In his place was an angry man in a wheelchair that kinda looked like him. If he communicated with me at all, it was with harsh words. Nothing I said or did made it any better or led him to seek help. He was miserable and depressed and eventually, so was I. I knew I had to jump out of this, but my guilt immobilized me. How do you leave a man in a wheelchair?

I tried every form of counseling imaginable — traditional or otherwise. Each one helped me get clear on what needed to happen, but it was a tarot card reading that forced me to take the leap. Sometimes inspiration finds you in the most mysterious way.

Althea asked, “What is Laura’s present situation?” As the card was revealed, I could feel a blade pierce my heart and I burst into tears. I was that brunette in the red dress; bound, gagged, and blindfolded; living in a cage of swords. When faced with the image, I could no longer ignore what was happening to me.

Maybe you’re in a situation that’s “heating up” right now. Think about it — at home? at work? Conditions are less than ideal and instead of dealing with the problem now, you’re content to let it boil inside of you. What are you tolerating just to keep the peace or deny your feelings of guilt? Are you clinging to something you should let go of?

I could’ve, maybe even should’ve, stayed with Robert while the pot continued to boil, but chose to save myself and jump out. Taking the leap brought me closer to my true self and it could do the same for you.

Live Your Beliefs No Matter What

Living contrary to your beliefs can make you sick, whether you’re aware of it or not. If it seems right but isn’t right for you, then it’s wrong.

When a loved one affects you negatively, you’re in a difficult situation and certain to have conflicting feelings. After all, you love them. Doesn’t that mean you’d do anything for them? If they’re ill or going through a difficult time, don’t you put your needs on hold to guide them through it? You don’t want to make them feel worse than they already are, do you? You tend to remain silent, feeling guilty for even thinking about yourself and not putting them first. But do you want to wind up in the same condition as they are?

The internal conflict existed inside me for years. My life force was being drained, my health deteriorating, and my stress levels were to the moon. Robert’s bad attitude toward me and everything else caused me to examine the relationship and ultimately realize that even before he became ill, our mutual experiences were limited to those he was comfortable with. They were such great experiences, and I loved every moment, but my desire for a little more spice and adventure was never fulfilled. He wasn’t up for it then and now they could never happen.

I could surrender solely to his needs and limitations or make the difficult decision to live my truth. I chose the latter.

You can’t live a full and happy life with your truth silenced. If there’s a situation in your life where you’re silencing your true self to make someone else or society happy, it’s time for a deep internal dialogue with yourself to determine your next move.

Don’t Fall Prey to The Gratitude Trap

Being grateful for having something in your life doesn’t mean you can’t desire something else. Have you made gratitude a limiting belief? You can be grateful for your home, but still want a new one; grateful for your successful career, but still want a different profession; or grateful that your partner didn’t die, but still want to be more than a caregiver.

Robert and I had good years, we had bad ones. I wanted more good years but didn’t see how we could have them together. My speaking up included a great deal of yelling and crying, but has managed to “clear” much of our anger and resentment toward each other. Our relationship has shifted to one where we are separate, yet connected. I am grateful that I had the courage to act in my best interest. It will benefit both of us.

Are you happy or settling? If you’re not sure of the answer, it’s probably the latter. You have one life to live and it is too short to use gratitude as a guise to silence your ambition or wanting for more. Don’t settle for less — express thanks for what you have — then go get what you want!

You Know You Have To Go.

As difficult as it was to leave Robert lying in a hospital bed last month, I felt I had to get on my flight the next morning. I just knew that he would go through hell and then he would miraculously pull out of it. I had witnessed it oh-so-many times before and couldn’t watch it happen again. I was certain that it would kill my spirit and break my heart. So I left.

I checked in with him everyday, but one morning, a call came from the doctor. Robert had a bad reaction to chemo and ended up in ICU. I fought the urge to jump on a plane — to be there as I always had been before — for him. But at the same time knowing I had to stay right where I was — for me. I imagined nails hammered through my feet to ground me to the place I was standing and waited for the outcome.

Trust Your Voice — Always

Which, of course, was fine. As I knew it would be. I had listened to “the voice”. You know the one because you hear it too. It simultaneously tells you the things you want to hear and the truths you try to hide from. I have heard it many times before and have learned to trust it.

It is always difficult to let go of guilt, fears, resentment, anger, need for approval…and all of that conditioning we think we should do and feel, but it gets easier each time.

I will keep listening for direction and doing the things that are best for me and hope you will too. When you are coming from a place of truth, it’s also what’s best for everyone else…even if it doesn’t seem so at the time.

Get Your Free Guide — Letting Go — The Manifesto

Do you feel like you’re just going through the motions?

Feeling stuck without knowing why or the next step?

Join me and others on our path to discovering our true selves.

discovery, inspiration, realization

see me, feel me

August 31, 2017 16 Comments

While sorting out my bedroom closet, I had to lie down right there on the floor amongst heaps of shoes, bags, belts, and clothing to regain my equilibrium. My brain hurt calculating the fate of each item. That, in addition to the energy from them, reverberated off the walls and completely knocked me out.

In the past few months, I have physically handled absolutely everything it took my entire life—and Robert’s—to acquire. I never realized there was so much. I worked with Robert’s movers to get his things to his new apartment, my movers to get my things into storage, and will have another round of movers pack and ship furniture and boxes going to the girls’ house in California.

For weeks I had folding tables set up in the living room for a house sale. I kissed goodbye many of my favorite pieces, not quite believing that I was really selling them. The “good stuff” that I didn’t keep or sell has been packed up to go to a resale store. Most of my closet went to friends, consignment, auction, or donation, but there’s still a vast amount to be organized. The quantity of everything along with the varied dispersal of it, has me exhausted.

It’s not like I’ve never moved before, not like I’ve never split up a household before. Sure, the last time was twenty years ago, but it can’t just be because I’ve never been this old before.

Why is it so different this time?

When Robert and I moved into this apartment, we were moving out of two homes. Over 7000 square feet of belongings between us needed to be reduced into 2000 square feet of space. Once I completed furniture layouts, what we needed became obvious, but what we wanted was not. So we made a deal. If he hated anything of mine or I hated anything of his, we would discard it–no hard feelings–and replace it with a new item that we both liked.

The pieces that didn’t make the cut quietly left. Some went to furniture heaven, while others lived on at my office. Italian contemporary kitchen chairs gained new life at a small conference table in the sources library and tribal tapestries added character to the walls in my reception area.

Formal evening with Robert November 1995

Choices were easy—clear–and I really didn’t miss anything that had gone away, especially not the furniture and art that I saw at work everyday.

As for the clothing, collectibles, and housewares–we brought it all. They were essential to living the way we were and wanted to continue. Stylish, elegant, sophisticated…

The puzzle pieces fit.

Fit the floor plan, fit the location, fit the purpose, fit the lifestyle, and fit who I was–whom I’d been my whole adult life. I knew what it looked like to be her. I knew what she needed to complete that picture. This girl, the one lying on the floor of her closet, hasn’t really existed before–and that’s what’s making my brain freeze.

I don’t know what she looks like yet or what her needs are. I can’t conjure her up in my minds eye to see what her future requires. I don’t even know what the pieces are–let alone where they fit. What does she do everyday, where does she go? What does she like to wear, how does she entertain? Where does she live? It all remains to be seen.

For a visual person with a highly developed sense of knowing what’s going to look just right, this is unnerving.

I’m going to have to feel my way through.

I’ve always enjoyed the discovery of beautiful new things, but I realize now that I don’t have to own all of them. I am acutely aware that as activities diminish and possessions are dispersed, my senses are heightened and exposed. Sometimes I’m sad, other times overjoyed, but I’m always certain that what I’m doing is the right thing to do right now. Will I find myself somewhere underneath the piles of belongings? Have I been playing hide and seek with my feelings and emotions my whole life? Maybe.

The first floor is just about empty.

Danielle came in to help as did quite a few friends. They packed, or purchased, or provided moral support–all of which I am so grateful for. The power of a friendly face or voice can move mountains, or in this case–a helluva lot of stuff!

Traces of packing paper and a few boxes waiting to go into storage are all that remain downstairs. Both the painter and floor finisher have been scheduled to touch up the imperfections visible now that furniture and art have been removed. The pieces shipping to California have been temporarily relocated to carpeted areas upstairs and will leave in a couple weeks. It feels weird. Not like home at all.

Which, I guess, is the point. In a few weeks my home will be neutralized–ready to belong to somebody else. The few items that remain in the bedroom and bathroom so I can work, sleep, and get dressed will have little impact on the personality of the apartment. What made it mine…ours…is gone with the wind–and the moving vans.

Despite all the mechanics, I welcome the new insights and intense feelings that emerge. Even the chaos is illuminating. I hope it shines brightly upon what’s next.

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discovery, inspiration, realization

california dreamin’

July 31, 2017 4 Comments

I’m writing this from my desk in Chicago.

Yes, Chicago.

My apartment looks like a bomb went off; strewn with boxes, bubble wrap, packing paper and all of my worldly possessions. As I pull out everything to take stock, I’m convinced I opened the portal to Narnia…surely all those things couldn’t fit into these cabinets and drawers? Like a clown car at the circus, the contents belie the size of the container.

I know…the last you read; the girls and fireworks were welcoming me to Oakland after my long drive. The week getting there and the months in California that followed now feel like a dream.

Did it really happen?

Living with the girls is fun. There are four of us in the house; Danielle, Anne, and one of D’s longtime friends, Erica. Both she and I are in transition. I joke about D & A running a “home for wayward girls”, as I express my gratitude for them doing so. Everybody looks out for, respects, and really loves one another.

The house is large and the property expansive, providing areas for solitude or community, depending on your desire. The perfect site for Danielle to work with her clients for plant medicine and sound healing or for the family to just be.

Taking care of the diverse surroundings is a constant endeavor. The previous owner had neglected quite a bit, so my particular area of expertise has come in handy. I’m happy to help with design, specification, and management for ongoing construction projects or to just wash the dishes…whatever is necessary!

View from the backyard in the Oakland Hills 2017

Stranger in a strange land

In addition to the work at the house, I want to experience everything the Bay Area has to offer. Finding clarity of purpose and my place in the world is my quest, after all, so I jump right in. Why wait? How else will I discover if my place is here.

I pick up the local papers and scour them for events and places where I might find my people. To go anywhere requires a 15-30 minute drive and extra time to find a parking place– quite different than strolling down Michigan Avenue to get just about anything you want. Walking fifteen minutes from this house is pretty, but gets me nowhere.

I immediately sign up for Iyengar yoga classes five days a week. There’s a swing club that’s open on Tuesdays for instruction and dancing, an art class in Sacred Objects on Sunday afternoon, and a performance of Guys and Dolls at the Oakland Symphony the following Friday night. I join the crowd for traditional dancing at the Greek Festival on Saturday and next week take the ferry from Jack London Square to downtown San Francisco, visit the De Young Museum to see the Summer of Love Exhibit, and even check out the performance of an amateur choral group to see if I want to sing along as I had in Chicago (they were terrible—so no!).

The utter simplicity of existence is a relief. Not like a vacation or the real world, I don’t know what to call it. I’m having a good time, but keep asking myself, “What am I going to do with my life?” I need to figure it out, but know it will not become clear until I reconcile my past and present.

Then I got the email.

“I’ll be in Chicago for a wedding July 8^th. Why don’t I come in early to help you pack up your apartment?” It was my college girlfriend, Lennie.

Go to Chicago? Geez, I just got here. How can I even think of going back? I’m disturbed by the thought of it. Can’t sleep, can’t think. I know it has to be done, the apartment has been on the market for months, I’d already started to purge, but I wasn’t been able to finish. I am faced with the reason I left Chicago when I did…

analysis paralysis.

The more I thought about clearing out my apartment, the less I could do. I felt as if my head would explode trying to figure out what to do with what. The plan was to sell my apartment, go to California with the minimal amount of things I would need to live with the girls, put what I absolutely couldn’t part with into storage in Chicago, and sell or donate the rest. Then I would go back and forth as business required.

Simple in theory, but in execution… not so much.

I had to do something to change the dynamic, which is when I got into my car and left. The message was clear—it was the only thing to do. It was also absolutely the right thing to do, but I didn’t know it at the time.

Driving to and being in California was slowly diffusing my angst and bewilderment, but I wasn’t yet firm in my resolve. After Lennie’s suggestion, I was going nuts all over again. “I don’t want to go back, but it must be done and it’s good to have someone to help navigate. How long do I stay? We can’t possibly get the job done in a week. Do I just leave now and get a head start?”

The self-talk was crazy making, so I had a pow-wow with Danielle instead. Together we uncovered the source of my trepidation. It revolved around going back to Chicago and getting stuck by putting myself back into it. My stuff, Robert, the apartment, everything. The stuff represents a lifetime of working, planning, saving, wishing, and enjoying. Hard to believe it no longer resonates with who I am or who I want to be.

“let it go, let it go, let it go!”

The words are familiar and keep ringing in my ears. I hate the thought of giving up most of my possessions just to get out, although I know that this is exactly what I must do. Things have no value if they’re killing your spirit. Nonetheless, it’s daunting to step out into the abyss alone and unencumbered.

Danielle at the De Young Museum June 2017

Which is why I’m grateful for the soft landing offered me in California.

The universe (and Danielle) continues to tell me to trust that whatever I give up now will come back to me in a different way, authentic to the person I’m becoming and not the one I was. I already know that there’s no space for the new to come in if it is full of the old. Okay, okay…I’m going back to clear the apartment, but when and for how long?

I’m not driving this time, so I put an airline reservation on hold…

and prepare to listen for answers.

The little voice (I often refer to it as the universe, but it’s also our inner knowing) speaks to all of us. Most don’t hear it, and if we do, tend to ignore it. Transcendental meditation coupled with the plant medicine work has made mine impossible to ignore, she’s relentless. I don’t always like the answers to my questions or find it easy to follow her sage advice, but I have learned to do it anyway. No matter the degree of ease or difficulty, it’s always the right thing to do.

This time, I am told to wait awhile before I go back, so that I can become more grounded in California. To leave now would only return me to the maelstrom of indecision that I left. Waiting until Lennie arrived a few weeks from now, it would be easy to make the decisions necessary for efficient disposition of my belongings.

Unable to predict just how long this process would take (the voice only said, “until it’s done”), I booked a one-way ticket, and here I am–sorting, wrapping, packing, organizing and moving stuff from one place to another.

Easy, but not so simple

Without my own wheels, I’ve loaded the Lyft app to my phone to use when it’s too far to walk. Thanks to Judy and Carrie, I have cars to borrow for longer distances. It’s been nice to see friends, family, and clients while in Chicago, but everything the same feels different somehow.

As for what goes into storage here, out to the girls in California, to Robert in his new apartment, or for sale and donation, the decisions have been easy, the effort…not so much.

I’m exhausted, yet happy and determined. Despite all the moving parts, I…but that’s another story.

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discovery, inspiration, travel

road warrior

May 28, 2017 17 Comments

Driving alone for six days is entirely different than flying there for six hours. Of course you end up in the same place, but on the road you have time to acclimate, to ease your way into a sense of place, to see the sites, and interact with a variety of new people. The best part? You get re-acquainted with yourself. Not at all like being air dropped into a new location.

I had decided to drive eight to ten hours per day–not pushing it if I was tired and not driving in the dark. I also wanted to stay off deserted roads, (Did you see Nocturnal Animals? Chilling.) but I didn’t follow all of those rules. It proved to be both impossible and fortuitous. What I would have missed!

It is not my intention to provide you with a travelogue. There are far better sources you can turn to for that. However, each mile or location formed distinct impressions…evoked particular emotions. I have to tell you where I’ve been in order to tell you how I feel about it. Please be patient,

I promise I’ll get to the point.

Driving through Wisconsin and Minnesota, I was reminded of previous trips and I laughed to myself at some good memories. It all seemed quite normal, until I crossed over into South Dakota. I had never been there before and I was jazzed. Crossing the state line brought the promise of something new.

When the Badlands emerged up ahead, I was sure that Scottie had beamed me up to another planet. The otherworldly terrain, desolate and barren, was very different than the green, rolling plains surrounding them. I explored a few of the craters, then pressed on.

“Hello, boys!” The greeting left my lips as I rounded the curve. There they were, up in front of me popping out of the mountaintop before disappearing out of sight as I took the next turn. George, Abe, Teddy, and Tom. Mount Rushmore! I visited Sitting Bull, as well, but it was the Black Hills themselves that took my breath away.

The Yellowstone Road

The next morning, the GPS kept telling me it was unable to determine a route to Yellowstone Park citing “road conditions.” Thank God and Linda for my Rand McNally Road Atlas because even the Wyoming Travel Information Bureau couldn’t help. I spotted the new facility as I crossed the state line and head over to get their take on what lie ahead. Ha! Hours of operation: 9-5, Monday –Friday. It was Sunday. What about weekend or evening travelers? The absurdity made me think I was still in Illinois.

So I took it one town at a time, heading west toward Cody, Wyoming. The name of the town just jumped out of the map at me and I knew I had to get there. It was more intuition than knowing, although it happened to be the town nearest the east entrance to Yellowstone Park. Perfect.

“Oh my God!” I screamed and had to stop the car. I obviously wasn’t the first person to do so, as a turnoff was right there waiting for me. I got out of the car, as well. I had to feel what I was seeing and couldn’t do that from inside. This was my first introduction to BIG SKY.

It went on forever– “from sea to shining sea”. So broad that I could perceive the curve of the earth. So vast that I felt tiny and insignificant. So exposed that I was frightened. So moved that it made me cry.

The enormity of it all.

It may not sound like a big deal, but as I continued west following my map or the road signs advertising, “The most scenic route to Yellowstone” I lost count on how many times I experienced an “OMG!” moment. Each one evoked the same action and response. Lucky me to have seen and felt all of this.

Checking in for the night in Cody, I asked how long it would take to get to Yellowstone in the morning. The girl behind the desk sheepishly handed a piece of paper to me. Her most apologetic voice told me, “Usually about forty minutes, but the east gate is closed until next week. This map will guide you to the north entrance. It’s about four or five hours from here.”

Now I knew why the GPS couldn’t get me to Yellowstone Park. Disappointing? Yes. Tragic? No. In fact the opposite. Had I known that the east gate was closed, I would have taken a different road further north, missing “the scenic route” (and all the great self-analysis that came with it) completely. I had all night to contemplate what the additional hours to the north gate would reveal.

The drive up through Montana was gorgeous, so by the time I arrived, I was ready to be really impressed. Everyone from Yogi Bear to Ken Burns had made Yellowstone Park sound like heaven on earth. I drove down the road next to a buffalo, waited to see Old Faithful erupt, (right on time, btw) and mentally checked these items off my bucket list as I realized that while magnificent, none of those things had knocked my socks off as much as I thought they would.

None of them.

Not the Badlands, not Mount Rushmore, nor Yellowstone Park could remotely compare with the beauty and wonder of the terrain that I covered (on the road and in my head) to get to them. It was what lie in-between that made this trip awesome.

The journey surpassed the destination.

It made me wish I had done this sooner…by about fifty years. I wonder how different my life would have been if this spirit of hope, discovery, and adventure had been instilled in me at an early age? Traveling cross-country to see what our ancestors had discovered and the perils they overcame couldn’t help but inspire. It profoundly impacted me now. I can only imagine what it could do to a ten-year old.

For those of you who did do it when you were ten, tell me. Did it infuse you with pioneer spirit or just annoy you because your brother was pulling your hair from the backseat and your father would stop only to sleep or refuel and not even consider pulling off the road for an “OMG!” moment?

The climate inside your immediate environment–be it your vehicle, your home, or your head–eclipses whatever is happening outside of it. Alone, in my spiffy little sports car, was the perfect incubator for discovery, inspiration, and analysis.

Imagine…

and I still have days to go before reaching California.

to be continued