{re{d}ress}: phase 2 of nomadacy {nights 91 and onward}

night 91 and onward

last night i moved from my second stay at phinney ridge* and back to my friends' place south of the zoo. this is my layover point {unless plans change} for the next two and a half months. my fall and early winter camp of sorts.

i have fears about this next stretch of time but i keep on going back to the logic of the decision which comes in three parts: 1. i want to travel internationally while i'm not paying rent and that can't happen until january. 2. with the play, work and hopefully sleep somewhere in there, i don't have time to find the perfect place. 3. even if the perfect place fell into my lap, i don't have time to settle in and unpack so why waste rent money for a space i couldn't really take ownership of?

but despite my mantra that this makes sense/this makes sense, i have mixed feelings about this next phase. somehow, somewhere in my brain the mere fact of being here longterm means i have to identify and take ownership of my space, how it looks and feels and suddenly i want things. i want my own comforter with the crisp white cover. i want my blender. i want my winter clothes i packed up thinking they'd be coming out of boxes sometime in the next few weeks {which, realistically i'll have to sort through and unearth}.

but this is not my furniture, these are not my things and my spirit doesn't sing back to me welcome when i step into the space. since the ownership that would naturally be a part of me living somewhere for an extended period of time still isn't possible even if i'm not moving from place to place, it forces me to confront that compulsion to nest on a whole new level. it never spoke as loud to me when i knew i was only staying somewhere for a night or a week. however, even though the volume is cranking, i am learning again i don't have to listen.

random thought: now that i think about it, today is exactly three months in. the last night at my apartment was july 15th and at this point i anticipate returning from my adventures around mid-january.

here we are. the mid-way point.

so far i've made two really good friends during this time. those kinds of friends you want to take home and show all your treasures of mind, body and spirit. and it still feels strange to me that neither of them have seen my jade plant that has a life of its own, neither have seen my paintings, my color coded books, the careful arrangements of shells and buttons. one of them, sadly, will be leaving to move to los angeles soon, so perhaps she never will, and the other, i hope, in whatever way they are able, will still be around this january to see the fullness of my spirit and space unfurl itself into whatever shell of a home i can find.

wait. one second. that's a good realization for me to make here, now, at this very moment as my fingers type this sentence: that my greatest strengths and greatest weaknesses are merely two sides of the same coin. i set out to do this because i need to locate the strength to find myself in the container of myself {and not in my home space which, at the end of the day, is merely a collection of superficial things given worth}. but simultaneously, because of that strength, i sometimes feel i can't contain the entirety of myself and that the things i collect around me help carry the vibrant burden of my being. they distribute and dilute it, but also, in their own way, multiply and contain it. i am filled with a reverence for the magic that happens in my home space, for the beauty and resonance that i cultivate and when i finally allow myself to return to that space, i already feel a greater sense of awareness and appreciation for that part of myself.

random thought: i just decided that during my travels i will splurge on something for my new apartment. an offering to these things that have waited so patiently in storage during my absence.

there was a 3 hour break here as my friend {a la tuesday night's car ride confessions} came over, delivered some soup, ate chocolate with me, admired my new lululemon pants, brought lambic we didn't need to consume because we went on a 2 hour walk in the crisp air down to fremont which included a spontaneous dance in the street to the music some folks were blasting in their car concert on the side of the road along the burke gilman trail. it was a good detour of the night. an in-person care package. during the field trip i also saw a massive jade tree {3 x 3 feet?} for $110 at the indoor sun shoppe. if i don't find something on my travels for my home, i'm buying that jade. perhaps even if i do.

so here i am, standing at the edge of the next precipice, feeling the journey i've taken stretch out into the next path of challenges and growth. and the lessons i have learned, about the links between mind/body/space, control/beauty/body, relationships/hope/control....they rest gently inside me tonight, even as i navigate some tender spots of home and hope and tender hearts and connection.

nights 81 to 90

as i was packing up and cleaning the phinney ridge house, the most incredible sunset was spreading out its colors just outside the back porch. it seemed a fitting close to phase 1.