Change

I’m sitting in the living room of my new apartment, surrounded by cardboard boxes 400 miles away from the only place I have ever known as home. This move was entirely spirit driven. A year ago I didn’t even know this village existed, or any of the people who lived here. And already I am an integral part of their community.

I am reminded of something I wrote years ago as a gift for friends that were moving to a faraway town. I have shared it many times since, but this time it really hit home (pun definitely intended): 

“The bond that exists between ourselves and those whose lives we have touched can never be weakened by the physical distance of miles. It shall instead be continually strengthened by the memories of the wonderful times we created and the thoughts of the laughter we shared.”

I keep that in mind as I separate myself from familiar loved ones and set myself up to meet new ones. This change is big for sure. Many have called it courageous, but it only feels that way a little to me. Necessary and divinely guided, yes. Brave, not so much. I am already feeling like I arrived home rather than left it. The transition was necessary to find relief from lifelong addiction and to create mental health solutions in an environment that is receptive to allowing differences in reality as gifts rather than illnesses. The illness model was too entrenched where I came from, buried and shackled in state policy. 

The welcome wagon here in Yellow Springs is stacked with friends waiting to help me unpack, organize, hang pictures and take me grocery and thrift store shopping. Navigating here is different. It takes twenty minutes to get to the grocery store, but not because it’s a couple of miles away and you are in bumper to bumper traffic. It’s a distance away and separated from this sweet, quiet little protected village by miles of curving country roads and scenic farmland. Since moving three weeks ago, I am relishing the neighborly feel, friendly hellos and small conversations that are spontaneous wherever you go. The local newspaper has a spiritual events section. Nature wraps her thick woods around me from all sides in the form of state parks, gorges and preserves. I feel protected by green to the point where steel and concrete can no longer smother me. I didn’t know how much I needed this until I was called here. 

There are many things to figure out.. Where should I create my writing space and hang my plants, store my reusable shopping bags. And there are surprises. I will need a shower curtain, having had a sliding glass door in my previous house. I feel somewhat discombobulated, yet not out of place. I have way too many people looking out for me for that, and I am learning the art of accepting their help to get me situated. Once upon a time I rejected that.  And while I patiently sit back and wait for my carpet to be installed so I can welcome guests, I ask the question, “Now what?” My serving, compassionate self wants to get started right away, my angels beckon me to be patient, sit back and listen for messages of where I am needed most while I am forming a new sanctuary here. There are tasks to be done, people to meet, ways I know I can help. Patience is the key to letting them all align into something beneficial for all, and the Universe will let me know what that is. 

FROM THE SANCTUARY

Outdoors my new space is more lavish green and lush than what I am accustomed to. Evening drives on curving country roads bordering sprawling farmland revealing breathtaking sunsets are becoming routine. There is more of a variety of songbirds here, many unfamiliar to me. There are so many squirrels and a mama deer with triplets on our apartment grounds. I am in awe at the size, age and volume of the trees that are allowed to thrive here. I notice and admire these, coming from an area that prioritizes development over nature. Already enamored by the scope of this shared reverence for nature, I am looking forward to learning more about Ohio flora and fauna, and sharing my lessons with you. 

This quieter pace and greener space have lulled me back to my innate pre-plugged in life. I am gently separating from my Zoom groups in favor of face-to-face connections and activities, and finding my body, mind and spirit responding vivaciously. I am coming back to life in wonderful ways. This I will keep in mind when designing my serving work.

I encourage you to embrace change. It may seem courageous to others, but if you follow the call of your heart, the results spark miracles.

Blessings, All!