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!
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 8th. 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.
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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