Since my January post, every intention and desire I held for this travel journey/life change has come to fruition. Every single one. When I advocate for positive thinking, for expectancy of good, and for belief in oneself and the true calling from one’s heart, I do so with a modicum of experience. I also talk with others, read stories confirming my theories, participate in seminars and generally surround myself with people who choose to direct and be accountable for the state of their lives.
My property is leased for a year. With the exception of two, each of my six cats has a new home. Friends and family are stepping up to borrow and use my things on long-term loan. Clients are responding to my departure with grace and enthusiasm. Opportunities have arisen in the field of photography and writing that were otherwise unexpected. Friends are regularly contacting me to let me know that they have a friend or family member that they want me to meet along the way. Packing the house is occurring with ease. In the act of giving things away, I am again reminded of the frequency with which we may be touching another’s life and the infrequency with which we recognize, acknowledge and learn from it. I see these moments as opportunities for healing.
A brief story: I have 5 whitewater kayaks. That may sound ludicrous but I assure you, I have friends with double and triple that number! Whitewater kayaking is a sport drawing a unique range of people. My experience of the common qualities suggest the willingness to be in the unknown and most often great passion for the sport or the overall river experience. A river is never the same. No matter how many times you have run a particular stretch of river, you cannot know exactly what it will do and when. The water is a dynamic force that can be predicted but certainly not guaranteed. Spotting a bald eagle on the American river is an infrequent treat and one recalls the days this occurs as particularly sublime. The reluctance to sell or give away a kayak is due to the emotional attachment to these experiences.
I posted one of my 5 kayaks and some outdated gear on the local kayak club website. Within minutes, I had 10 hits. I offered the gear “free to good home”. Being fair, I contacted the first person who responded. After several emails and phone calls to coordinate the transfer, a chance to get to know this person and his family has arisen. In our last conversation, he asked how my packing was going. I sincerely shared that I was struggling with time management (which is not a familiar issue for me). My conflict lies in an erratic desire to repeatedly do all the activities that I have been engaged in while I have lived here. I want to ride my mountain bike on the local trails that I love, I want to run the river that I have run hundreds of times, I want to play tennis with the same girls, and I want to plant a garden even though I am leaving. This feels at once logical and illogical. The young man I was talking with said he experienced my desire as childlike, sharing his opinion that as adults we give little appreciation to the familiar experiences and constantly seek more/better; whereas children find abundant joy in simple things they have done or do repeatedly. This led to deeper conversation and theory about quality of life vs. quantity. At the end of the
conversation he shared that he needed our conversation that day, that he was emotionally drained from the demands of his corporate position and our little time talking had uplifted his life. Without prompting from me, he asked if there was any packing or moving that he could help me with when he came to pick up the kayak as he wanted to spend more time together and for his wife and children to get the chance to meet me.
Sharing this with you is not intended as a shout out for my ego. It is intended as a reminder that our behavior, our words, our very lives have impact – my mission is to recognize mine and use it for the highest good. I call you to do the same. I am brought to tears at the idea that fear and limited or competitive thinking causes us to miss out on these opportunities to care for another person, to engage fully and honestly, to love another for a brief moment and to trust that healing love to be spread. We have a choice. I choose to be bold and audacious, trusting that I am the only me and that everything I think and do has impact. I choose for that impact to be healing. I invite you to join me.
My property is leased for a year. With the exception of two, each of my six cats has a new home. Friends and family are stepping up to borrow and use my things on long-term loan. Clients are responding to my departure with grace and enthusiasm. Opportunities have arisen in the field of photography and writing that were otherwise unexpected. Friends are regularly contacting me to let me know that they have a friend or family member that they want me to meet along the way. Packing the house is occurring with ease. In the act of giving things away, I am again reminded of the frequency with which we may be touching another’s life and the infrequency with which we recognize, acknowledge and learn from it. I see these moments as opportunities for healing.
A brief story: I have 5 whitewater kayaks. That may sound ludicrous but I assure you, I have friends with double and triple that number! Whitewater kayaking is a sport drawing a unique range of people. My experience of the common qualities suggest the willingness to be in the unknown and most often great passion for the sport or the overall river experience. A river is never the same. No matter how many times you have run a particular stretch of river, you cannot know exactly what it will do and when. The water is a dynamic force that can be predicted but certainly not guaranteed. Spotting a bald eagle on the American river is an infrequent treat and one recalls the days this occurs as particularly sublime. The reluctance to sell or give away a kayak is due to the emotional attachment to these experiences.
I posted one of my 5 kayaks and some outdated gear on the local kayak club website. Within minutes, I had 10 hits. I offered the gear “free to good home”. Being fair, I contacted the first person who responded. After several emails and phone calls to coordinate the transfer, a chance to get to know this person and his family has arisen. In our last conversation, he asked how my packing was going. I sincerely shared that I was struggling with time management (which is not a familiar issue for me). My conflict lies in an erratic desire to repeatedly do all the activities that I have been engaged in while I have lived here. I want to ride my mountain bike on the local trails that I love, I want to run the river that I have run hundreds of times, I want to play tennis with the same girls, and I want to plant a garden even though I am leaving. This feels at once logical and illogical. The young man I was talking with said he experienced my desire as childlike, sharing his opinion that as adults we give little appreciation to the familiar experiences and constantly seek more/better; whereas children find abundant joy in simple things they have done or do repeatedly. This led to deeper conversation and theory about quality of life vs. quantity. At the end of the
conversation he shared that he needed our conversation that day, that he was emotionally drained from the demands of his corporate position and our little time talking had uplifted his life. Without prompting from me, he asked if there was any packing or moving that he could help me with when he came to pick up the kayak as he wanted to spend more time together and for his wife and children to get the chance to meet me.
Sharing this with you is not intended as a shout out for my ego. It is intended as a reminder that our behavior, our words, our very lives have impact – my mission is to recognize mine and use it for the highest good. I call you to do the same. I am brought to tears at the idea that fear and limited or competitive thinking causes us to miss out on these opportunities to care for another person, to engage fully and honestly, to love another for a brief moment and to trust that healing love to be spread. We have a choice. I choose to be bold and audacious, trusting that I am the only me and that everything I think and do has impact. I choose for that impact to be healing. I invite you to join me.
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