The road home

The leader of the Artist's Way group and I met before I left for California. It was hard to say good bye. Or as I'm viewing it, not good bye but see you later. I'll be back. The people that remain in my life in Colorado will always be with me. No matter what and especially this group of ladies.

Driving home I felt different. It was the first time in a long time that I could say I am going to a place where there are no expectations of me. I have no game plan. I'm not running from anything. I'm not thinking that somehow the promise land will deliver it's golden nectar. I was just going to where I felt the path was calling me.

The irony of it being back here in a small, rich enclave of the Bay Area is not lost on me. I lived a small life in Colorado. I liked it. I will probably try to live a small life here too. The flat is amazing. Peaceful and calm. I feel like I live in a tree house. I don't see the trunks of trees but instead live in the branches and leaves. How ironic. It is calm and I'm alone. Trying to figure it out.

I didn't panic until Sunday the day I moved into my flat. I had dropped off the Penske truck and it hit me. Bam. Shit. It's all me. All me. I settled some things but frankly I'm afraid of where to put things. Afraid of making anything to permanent. But I think part of me is enjoying the indecision as I wait for my son to arrive. With him I need to make it permanent. I can't move again for 6 years. Unless of course the love of my life moves to Japan, then I'll just have to follow. The path is funny that way. But for now I'm staying here.

The big thing that I thought of was my determination. I am determined to do the big things. The move 1100 miles away things. The give up a career things. The big things I have a determination about achieving. But the little things - not so much. I'm terrified of making a mistake with the little things. Hanging the picture in the wrong spot. Putting my son's bed in the wrong spot. Figuring out how to do yoga daily. What will happen then? That is what I'm afraid of. So I don't. I just wait for the big things. How do I fix that? How do I follow the path on the small things too? How do I have faith in the little things? The little things are what matter. Moving 1100 miles away from your family. Eh. What's the impact? But eating 5 vegetables a day - that might actually make me healthy. Then guess what? That might make me happier. Then guess what? I don't know who I'll be if I'm not bitching about something. See. This is what I thought of when driving. That and amazement at the beauty and barren nature of the desert.

Driving west, the sunset over the rockies and darken sky of Denver behind me in the rear view mirror. The future is ahead of me, not behind me.

Leaving Wyoming and the land gets rocky. And you never see the curves coming.

The barren nothing of the salt flats. How often does your life feel this way? The illusions that the barrenness creates is astounding. Our minds needs something to play with vs. just being in the nothing.

But coming out of the flats, the mountains rise in front of you again. The blind curves where you never know what will come.

At the end the bright sunlight reminds you to hold on. I'll be back. Another day will come.