the original plans starting shifting during wedding camp when my friend, sallie, who is about to enter her own nomadic period, casually said i want to travel internationally while i'm not paying rent and a lightbulb went off in my head. of course! i should take that three week trip overseas i am years overdue taking! but i'm committed to seattle through the first week of december when proof closes, then a little longer as i finish up the madness of the holiday family photo shoot season and then a week or two beyond as we arrive at christmas {and currently plan to fly my parents to the states for the holiday}. so, it looks like the last week of december sees me flying east to europe. new year's eve in paris with my friend of a decade, karina, some time in vienna with my sister, a little jaunt through the netherlands with my father {new idea: dad, you up for it?!?!} and then at least a week navigating on my own in a country where i don't speak the language.
and as exciting and right as that the decision feels, it means the nomadic three and a half months will become a nomadic half a year which is terrifying. all my beautifully lined up places to stay finish at about mid-october {in two weeks!} and while i won't be out on the street, i have reservations about the plans that are scraping themselves together post-mid october. i'm weighted down by logistics: i'll have to move my things. i need to rustle through my clothes to find all those warmer articles i packed thinking they'd be let out again before winter. not to mention questions like: if i am paying for storage for both my things and a small to mid range rent, why i am not just paying for a real space {even if i don't have time to find and settle into that new place starting next week when rehearsals start}?
it feels good to stand at the edge of carefully laid plans looking out at the hazily shaping future and know it's okay and this is just the next level of the double dog dare i made to myself to challenge my sense of control. challenge my death-grip on safety and organization and plans. and it was really sweet to hear the reassurances from a new friend last night {see bon iver entry below} that i should keep going. someone who's heard, in that meandering and tangential way of mine, about 14 half-stories about my life over a seven hour car ride, and yet can already reflect back to me that the challenges i'm asking myself to face next are right where i should be. and as scared as i am, i agree. i handled really well {for the most part} a life without a home, but organized and planned out neatly from a to b to c. but what about when the plans fall apart or worse, don't exist? what about when they aren't perfect? i am still waiting for a kismet introduced housesitting gig to present itself, but in the meantime i forge onward, step by uncertain step.
as i close the 29th year of my life and move into the last year of my 20s, i boldly step into a month of uncertainty and challenges: rehearsals for a play i have so much invested in, a new grip on my life i suddenly find myself in where i'm feeling and acting a bit more boldly and therefore vulnerably, and then a span of 2 1/2 months of unplanned nomadacy {the "madness" element to that word seems to stand out a bit extra at the moment}.
and as i gear up for that, i want to take a second to look back at where i have been for the past month.
night 59 was spent once more at my sister's house. it was my mother's last night in the country. a quick two and a half months that went by in a whirl of my move and then baby time. we stil managed to spend a good amount of time around practical tasks {like cataloguing all 1101 books for me in a database before i packed them up} as well as roadtrips {eugene & portland}, emotional break downs {most notably the night i put all my stuff into storage and couldn't help asking what the hell have i done?}, good movies {tree of life and the final harry potter installment} and lots of little moments over the phone, conversing from within the same continent and time zone even. what a gift to have her close for so long. you can see her asleep already on the bed we would share whenever i stayed over at my sister's {occasionally with a new niece/grandbaby}. the next morning i made my fantastic french toast breakfast for everyone and gave myself the second {perhaps???} wheat-induced belly ache i've ever received. bummer.
nights 63 to 77 have been spent here in what is the longest unbroken time since i started. two weeks in the same place straight. tonight is my last night here, tomorrow i head to oregon for a few days and then when i come back i am in my second stretch up on phinney ridge.
as i unpacked this time i carefully evaluated each thing i carried and sent a box of extraneous baggage back into storage. no, i really don't need to wear that shirt for the next 2 months, certainly won't need my sandals or my holga {whoops, just made plans to go shoot with it} and it felt good to lighten my load a bit. i carry too much stuff. holding tightly to myself my belongings as though somehow they can ground me.
silly, nathania, they are just things. feel the edges of your true home. ground yourself in that quiet space you seek when you go running, the one that often peeks out from behind your inner monologue in yoga classes, and that speaks to you calmly, without judgement as you paint...the part of you still buzzing from an amazing concert on monday. there you are home and always will be.
currently listening to this version of beth/rest by bon iver. the jump at 1:22 as he says "pry it open with your love" gets me every time.
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