There is a space between letting go and saying yes to the next thing, between one rung on the monkey bar and the next. Often that space feels unsure, emotional, maybe even terrifying. If we breathe through it, really lean into it, yes awaits us on the other side.
I feel like I’ve been treading water.
In the big ocean of relocating, I’ve been in a holding pattern, getting my bearings, regulating my breathing, building muscles, stamina, waiting for the right moment to begin swimming again.
I suppose I’ve needed this time to move from the uncomfortable and disappointments and frustrations of the past three months. I’ve needed space and time to unwind, regroup, to NOT make any decisions.
I’ve been sleeping well, dinnering with friends at favorite restaurants and swimming every day. I’ve been catching up on a lot of behind the scenes upgrading on the Mac to School website and I’ve recorded and edited twelve new training videos that are scheduled for release in the Virtual Classroom over the next three months.
And I’ve been scanning Craigslist daily for housing.
But I realize I can’t say yes to anything from so far away.
And so I have made a reservation at a no frills, no shade RV Park a few blocks from the beach for the entire month of August so that I can BE there to actively look for a new home.
The funny thing is, when I very first decided to move, my plan was to go in the RV! I even considered making a reservation at this same RV park. But my vision then was to live there full time, not use it as a temporary place while I looked for a more permanent place to live.
And I talked myself out of doing it because I didn’t want to live in such a small space for that long a time or deal with putting my things in storage and then moving them later. It seemed too expensive to be there in the high season, I didn’t know how I was going to get my car there too.
I was so focused on the details that I couldn’t see the bigger picture.
Because I wasn’t ready.
It’s been my dream for years to live full time in the RV. Except my vision always included my former partner.
So whenever I considered it as an option in the house hunting plans, I could only imagine how miserable I would be doing it solo. I could only see myself sadly reminiscing about the places she and I had travelled together as a couple, longing for her company, pining for that idealistic past.
And then I remembered how, several years ago I took myself on my first solo vacation to San Diego. I was terrified that I would be bored without a companion and not be motivated to explore on my own. What I discovered was that I enjoyed doing what I wanted, when I wanted. I realized how friendly I am and I met some great people and I took myself to places that I may not have gone if I’d been with someone else.
So when I start to freak out about the road ahead I remember this excitement of traveling with myself, and I shift my focus to how I can redefine the dream of living in the RV with myself and Laddy.
What parts of it still call to me? How can I let go of the partner part and get excited about being my own traveling companion?
And the more I ask myself these questions, the more I know that I am meant to do this alone, that it’s an opportunity for me to embrace my own company, rely on my own self for directions, for cooking, for dumping. And it’s a chance for me to create a new life and open to new relationships.
So, here I am, months later, my things are in storage at my Dad’s house and I am doing exactly what I had originally planned: I’m going to live with Laddy in the RV in Morro Bay. But I’m taking it a month at a time.
My intention is to acclimate to my new world and actively look for a place to live, but without obsessing or forcing it. I will connect with the Apple stores in the area, maybe teach some group classes and continue to build my virtual Mac training business.
I will walk on the beach and along the bay with Laddy every day. And I will continue to write about the things I am bound to discover about who I am and how I show up in the world.