{re{d}ress}: to build a home

this year, i set out to make 2011 about joy. ode to joy. it's how i heralded in the crossing over from 2010 to 2011 with beethoven's symphony carrying me along on the anthem to all things joy related. and yet, this year has been more about a burning away. literally. fever for the first three days of the year, sick for the first three weeks. a month later, the throbbing burn of my lower back.

and i shook my fist at the sky in indignant frustration.

and yet, i have burned away the layers of garbage and muck clinging to my spirit, forcing myself to purge and purge again expediting change. so here i am, half way in, entering what is probably the single most deliberate act of cleansing and changing i have ever committed myself to consciously.

a week into my search for a new apartment, disheartened by the duds i was pulling up yet all the while knowing something wonderful was waiting for me out there, i realized that my fallback plan was the one i actually wanted to do. rather than stressing to make plan a or b work, i willingly picked the path behind door c. what was posted just above c's handle were these instructions for the next three and a half months of my life:

1. pack up your belongings taking only what you love. purge the rest.

2. put them into storage for 3 1/2 months.

3. go nomad.*

*this nomadic period will include house sitting, house surfing {we plan but can't promise zero couches} and otherwise be at the mercy of your friends and family, enjoying the sense of being untied to a physical space and learning from the challenges of having your living space being out of your control.

while you might say here i should beware of the fine print, i have to counter with how, as soon as i made the decision, everything lined up to support it better than i could ever have asked or imagined. one friend offered a truck and his help moving saying "i don't want you to pay for a truck..." and a day or so later, another friend offered her garage for storage, saying "i don't want you to pay for storage..." and above and beyond this all, it feels right. as soon as i made the decision, i felt excited about my life in a way that i haven't felt in a long time. like looking forward to the adventure of travel, except i will be here, in seattle, living and working as i am, just untethered and free. a good reminder to myself that i am not my space. i am not my things. i am not my books. i am not my aesthetically arranged home. they are mine, but they are not me.

i do ask myself what will i do without those mirrors to remind myself who i am? mirrors that reflect back the beauty of my library arranged by color, the mirror of silence echoed back by a quiet home all to myself after a long day of work. the mirror perpetuating an illusion of control but also a place to land. a place to rest.

i return to one of my favorite quotes:

'loneliness isn't about being by yourself. that's fine, right and good, desirable

in many ways. loneliness is about finding a landing-place, or not, and

knowing that, whatever you do, you can go back there. the opposite of loneliness

isn't company, it's a return. a place to return.'

so i need a place to return to throughout this period as i lose the physical and most tangible manifestation of this idea: a home. i need a landing place that i cannot lose and that cannot be taken away from me--the only thing in this world i will always have is the stock standard answer: my own self.

parallel to the above mentioned purge and cleanse of my possessions is a cleanse of my body. the most dedicated thing i have done in honor of it ever. three weeks ago i began an elimination diet {which includes taking out milk, gluten, sugar, honey, maple syrup, dairy, eggs, oats, bananas, strawberries, oranges, the list continues....}. but that was just the first phase. this past monday, the same day i began packing up my life, i began a three week cleanse which follows the elimination diet just removing breakfast and dinner and substituting liquid meals twice a day {smoothies, fresh juice--i have a juicer!--or liquid soups}.

i am into day three, supported by supplements and an all organic diet, but already i can tell my relationship to health and eating had hugely shifted. my food is less processed, whole, healthy in the most simple and delicious sense. as much as i have dedicated myself to cutting back during this time, i am also enjoying the experience of food more than i have in a long time. i am forced to think creatively and try new things, but just as significantly i am already free of side effects i was tolerating on a daily basis for years--my whole life, actually. i don't have cravings. i don't overeat. i listen to my body. and already i feel cleaner and this is just the beginning.

somehow these two journeys are so perfectly timed to coincide. cleanse. purge. home. both of them. the one home my body inhabits and the other my spirit inhabits.

on my run this past sunday, i had this fleeting moment while looking down at my shadow bouncing along in front of me--it was this undeniable feeling of certainty about being in the right place at this moment and how being alone right now is a significant part of that rightness. i am finding myself and what's under the layers of build-up on my body, spirit and home and while i feel very loved and supported heading into this adventure, i am also alone on this journey and that is right in a way i can't quite gather up enough words to explain.

and then, today, this song was delivered to me and all i can think is and now, it's time to leave and turn to dust.

'to build a home' -- cinematic orchestra

there is a house built out of stone

wooden floors, walls and window sills

tables and chairs worn by all of the dust

this is a place where i don't feel alone

this is a place where i feel at home

and i built a home

for you

for me

until it disappeared

from me

from you

and now, it's time to leave and turn to dust

out in the garden where we planted the seeds

there is a tree that's old as me

branches were sewn by the color of green

ground had arose and passed its knees

by the cracks of the skin i climbed to the top

i climbed the tree to see the world

when the gusts came around to blow me down

i held on as tightly as you held onto me