And per usual, I wasn't disappointed. I found a bend in the path that I missed last week. I was able to run along the coast with the most amazing views of the surrounding city, the mountains, and the sunset. I stopped more than once to take it all in. And once again, I was reminded to trust. To let go and let it happen. To accept the timing of life, to have compassion, and to take action. I think this is the cycle to live by. At least for me, right now. Accept, compassion, action. Rinse and repeat.
Tonight's run felt right. It felt good to be where I was in that moment. I have had a lot of feelings, thoughts, and emotions in the 10 days since arriving in Victoria. Homesickness, doubt, fear, excitement, hope... But there was something deeper I hit on tonight. I think it was that feeling in the top of the gut, that feeling of "home". It is the feeling my partner provided. It is the kind of feeling your best friend gives when you hear their voice, or when you step into your grandparents house, or when you hear a certain verse in a certain song. As I ran around this path tonight, I couldn't help but feel like I had been here before, seen this landscape before. The Pacific Northwest has been calling to me for a few years now. I have dreamed of Seattle, Portland, being among the trees, mountains, and ocean. Living in sweaters and mist and fog. I grew up in a coastal town in New England, so it makes sense I suppose. But that never felt like home. I always felt pulled away from where I grew up. It is familiar but free of baggage. It is new yet comfortable. It is grounding and expansive.
My short but powerful meeting with a tarot reader a month ago brought up two powerful and current issues for me - the idea of "needing to go" and "my thousand past lives" (specifically the weight of carrying them and how they make me feel "big"). Maybe my life is meant to fill up those lives. To allow each past part of my soul find their home, if only for a moment, or season. Maybe that is why I seek something I cannot articulate. Maybe it is why I am comfortable with the bigger unknown, and find so much joy in the journey and the process of exploration and learning.
I returned back to my current home, the apartment of a soul-mate I met while in Costa Rica one year ago. I felt ok. Tired, but ok. As I sat down to write this post, Google felt the need to remind me of where I was two years ago.
All of these images of smiles and love and celebration hit me. I couldn't help but look. And I cried. I sobbed. It took all of my energy not to email him. It took all of my energy to not share one picture in particular with the world. Misery loves company. I tried to stay grounded as the tears fell, as my chest heaved: "Why email him?". "What will it accomplish?" "How will it make you feel better?" "How will he respond?"And I knew the answers to those questions. And that hurt just as badly. So I closed the tab on my computer.
And if you are like me, and like so many of us, you then went straight for the kitchen. I wanted to feel something. I wanted to feel full. I wanted a distraction. I wanted comfort. Luckily, my roommate and I keep a clean kitchen. And I once again stopped myself. Acceptance, compassion, action. I closed the fridge and put on the kettle. I can find comfort in a cup of tea. I can feel full in other ways. I can separate myself from excuses.
And so here we are.
My to-do list is beside me, and I have cashews begging to be made into cheese...
One step forward, one step at a time.
May you bring acceptance, compassion, and action into your day.
And may you always find ways to feel right at home.