Listening to Sarah McLachlan's "Full of Grace" and "I Don't Know How to Let You Go" on repeat...
I am moving to Calgary for awhile.
I want to sublet my room so I have a place for when I come back. So, my tiny room (and the room's bed), is available Jan 1st. Rent is 325 a month -- includes internet in the room, garden in backyard, everything! Gas stove/oven, laundry, bike room. Right on the bike path. Close to downtown. Across from cool little store. Close to Commercial Drive. Good, quiet area. Hot roommates (3) who are active and not often at home. So that's my ad, spanky.
The last time that I had a pensive period and then made the most exciting and right spontaneous decision of immense growth, was almost 2 years ago. Hah, well there have been others, but I'm talking about the kind of ready-made, right-feeling decision that comes out of nowhere in answer to my heart's question -- something I can't put into words (but I will anyway), but only feel. A decision borne of right timing and trusting my knowing despite what others' responses may be (though quite often, others are supportive and benefit by my taking the initiative to live my life passionately). The pieces fit.
I remember in April 2004 when I bought a plane ticket to Vancouver for the next week, then changed my plane ticket destination from Vancouver to Calgary the morning of my flight. My father drove me to the airport, not knowing when we'd meet again. On the drive I was furiously purging my already light duffle bag, repacking my clothes and bringing nothing but the necessities. I knew I'd be on my own. I felt so strong and wild and SONYA. Everything unknown was my ally... I had nothing but the proverbial song in my heart, $200 cash in my pants and a pair of socks there, too. Yes, I had balls (my grandmother says, to do what I did, hahh). I will romanticize the experience now. I will tell you that I had not one shred of fear in me, that I knew exactly why I was going, that I had faith in the goodness of my will, and that nothing was going to stop me or convince me to deviate from my goal (which was not so much a goal as it was a principle). And, well, that is correct. I WAS in the know. Love (adrenaline mixed with dopamine, yum) knows everything.
So I landed in Calgary, after a week of little sleep and nothing but my own delusions of specialness to ensure my creation of my heart's vision. (That's all it takes to make my life happen -- focus not on what is apparent, but what is in my mind; so 'twas good for me that I'd figured this out and that I am great at ignoring the state of physical reality around me....) I felt good. I was still in the know. Yes, I didn't know what the hell I was going to do next, but I was calm and excited and every face was a potential angel in disguise. (I meet tons of 'em on my journeys). I called my father from a payphone. He broke down and cried, and told me how proud he was of me, a smalltown girl, for having the courage to go my own way, live out west with no place to stay, no friends, no common sense, no nothing. I couldn't tell whether he was joking or giving me shit. Probably a bit of both -- typically Canadian; ashamed to be proud of anything, eh?
The rest of the story I'll regale another time. Or perhaps I'll let it be at that.
I feel good.
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