It's raining in Albuquerque. And, as something let go in the weather to allow the rain to fall, something seemed to let go in me today. I slowed down. I let go...a little.
I'm moving to San Diego. And, as much as my soul knows that that's my next step, my human is feeling some overwhelm and anxiety. If I could just teleport myself, my cats, and my stuff there, it would be okay; but, since that's not possible, the 3D physical stuff has got me going a little crazy. I also find the explaining of my actions to the people around me to be a bit stressful. If it was a mental decision with a string of logical steps and conclusions, it would be easier; but, it's a decision that comes from the depth of my being with more emotion than logic. And, since I moved to the place where I'm living only six months ago, the decision to move again is even more challenging to explain.
I've been having what I finally realized were panic attacks. My heart would race for no reason, I'd get short of breath with no cause. My digestion has been upset. For a while now, these symptoms have been passing me without registering. I would feel them, but then ignore them. But, today, because I slowed down and started to be with what was happening, I realized that my anxiety is taking physical expression.
I've moved more than the normal person. My family moved every two years for my whole childhood until we finally settled into a house that my parents bought when I started high school. I lived in that house for four years and then moved out to be on my own. I moved every few years, and sometimes every year, until I found the last apartment I had in Santa Monica. I lived there for eight years, which is the longest I've lived anywhere in my life. I've been in Albuquerque for almost five years and I've lived in four different places in that time. And, now, I'm moving everything back across the country to be in San Diego. Moving from one side of town to the other is a lot, but moving from one state to another is really daunting.
I downsized by half when I moved into the apartment where I am now. And, I'll downsize again as I get ready to pack for the move to California. I enjoy getting rid of things and having less. It always feels good to let stuff go. But, it takes time to go through everything and make all the decisions about what stays and what goes. And, it has an emotional component to it. A lot of emotions get triggered as one makes the decisions about what one needs, or wants, and what one needs to let go of. Moving doesn't just stir up things in a physical sense, it stirs up things on every level. So, apart from dealing with all of what the physical demands, there's a lot of internal stuff moving around and processing through as well.
Albuquerque has been a joy for the most part. I've loved this city and its people. There is an unsurpassing beauty here that has surrounded and nurtured me. And, I will miss the Sandia Mountains, which I love. But, my being needs the ocean. I ache and yearn for the water. I've never lived away from the water until I moved here. And, it didn't really bother me for the first four years because I was still traveling a lot and getting periods of time at the water. Things changed when I retired and the traveling stopped. I've been in Albuquerque for the last year with no time away, and my need for the ocean has made itself known loud and clear. I dream about the ocean. I dream of seagulls, and kelp drying in the sun on the beach. I smell the salty moisture of the water and feel the ting of it in the air. During the last animal communication session I had with my cats, they were showing images of the ocean to the animal communicator. She couldn't understand why they were showing her the ocean when we live in Albuquerque, but it's because they were picking it up from me.
Family is also calling. Over the last year, I've become much closer to my sister. We've been talking more over the phone and I've been missing her. So, by moving to San Diego, I get the ocean and I get family. Since I grew up in San Diego, it's like going home. But, I've now lived away from it for longer than I lived in it, so I know that it will be a very different place. And, I'm a different person. When I left in my 20's, I was looking for and wanting so many things. I had things to find out about myself and things to prove. But, as I come back now, I know myself and I have nothing to prove. I've done what I wanted to do and I've traveled the world. I'm a softer, quieter person who's been pretty much stripped to the bone.
I'm driving to San Diego first to find a place to live and then coming back to pack and move. I'm not looking forward to the drive, but it is what it is. I'm looking for places to live in the same, small beach community I lived in before I moved away from San Diego. And, I'll look for work as a waitress once I get there, which is what I did years and years ago. So, it's a real full-circle moment. I could arrange things so I didn't have to work, but I'm actually looking forward to working. I've had a year of total freedom and lack of structure, so I feel okay now about finding work. And, I like the idea of waitressing. I always enjoyed it when I did it before and I expect to enjoy it now.
I'm excited and melancholy all at the same time. I'm holding space for what is to come, and I'm honoring what is done and what I'm parting with. It's a new chapter, and I have no idea what it will hold, but I'm excited by the possibilities that it offers. I didn't know this was what I'd be doing until a couple of weeks ago. I'd felt something coming, but it hadn't taken shape yet. Then, rather suddenly, it became clear, and I knew where I was to go and what I had to do. All there is left is to do it. So, after a year of rest, I'm on my way. Wish me luck!