From the West Coast.

Moved. Transitioned(ing?).  Plucked up, re-planted.  All of this planning, preparation, organizing and THINKING goes into this and then BAM all of a sudden it's just happening.  One thing I have come to understand about myself is that I am a slow-processor. What I mean by that is, some people can just be in a situation and react to it.  For me, it takes some time for me to digest it and then react.  This morning I woke up and didn't realize where I was at first.  Then slowly things began to fall into place.  As I began to move about the morning and feel my feet under me, I could tell I wasn't quite present.  I was sort of putting my feelers out there, but not quite feeling yet. If that makes any sense. Eventually, as if I just needed to warm up, I began to feel myself coming to, waking up, becoming present in the moment.  It felt good.

Let's get some specifics out on the table so we are all on the same page here: I moved from Cambridge, MA to Portland, OR. No job, not attending school, just came to come. I have a wonderful living situation out here and some amazing friends. As different and far away as I feel, it also feels completely good to be here.  I was craving different, I was craving new and a bit crazy.  However, I will admit my ego speaks up every now and then saying "don't you want to claim this as your own, how can we do that?" I can tell this part of me, my ego-self, wants a sense of identity here.  Something to call my own.  Instead, I am willing and ready to allow this leg of my journey to be transient. I had the solid ground, I had the routine and I decided to leave that behind. While all of this jibber jabber is going on in my mind, I want to listen to my heart. What is it that I really want? I'm here, in a community I feel so connected to already, surrounded by people with similar ideals and values and could easily find myself wanting to actually put some roots down.  Is that ego talking though? Because I also have this part of my that wants to fly.  I do feel a bit confused, fuzzy and torn as to what I want. Ya know, just in case you couldn't tell.

I'm going to stay present, I'm going to breath, and I'm going to listen to my heart. 

"Ms. Tretter why do you have to leave?"

"What do we leave behind when we cross each frontier? Each moment seems split in two; melancholy for what was left behind and the excitement of entering a new land"
~ Ernesto Che Guevara



Slowly I feel the roots coming up. The knots untangling, the strings detaching. I am experiencing the feeling of tearing away from all I am doing here, all I know here.  Each day that goes by brings with it a new handful of goodbyes and it's fair share of "last times." Each moment presents a new chance to be fully aware of what I am doing.  It's a gift and a challenge at the same time. I have been so blessed to have the people in my life who have helped, encouraged, inspired, and challenged me. From those I have lived with, to those I have only known at a distance and all those in between, each have left me with so much gratitude for their words of advice and their words of caution. I find that as I open up to co-workers, friends, family, almost-strangers about what I'm doing, instantly there is a different connection.  I'm putting my dreams, vulnerabilities and quite spotty plan on the table and each reacts in such a unique way.  Each reaction is a chance for me to recognize my Self in it all.

Packing.

At this point I am just picking things up and putting them back down in different places.  I feel I have lost all grasp on where things belong.  I'm done trying to organize.  I have no idea where old birthday cards belong, or what one does with snap shots of bygone times.  I was never one to scrapbook per say, I more or less just keep things of sentimental value in a box. I have the beginnings of maybe 3 scrapbooks, but about halfway in I lose steam.  I'm wondering if this process is my hands-on lesson on letting go.  Perhaps it doesn't matter how many pages are filled, or how many collages are made. Perhaps the best way to store an experience is to not store it at all.  Instead, to live it.  To feel it. To breath it in, soak it up and let it run through me.  Then to let it go.  Perhaps it's not the amount of trinkets that fill a shelf, but instead....blink blink. There's that damn cursor waiting on me again.

The Free Box

I didn't anticipate it turning out to be such an ACTIVITY.  When the  the idea of a Free Box first hit me, it seemed like an easy way to get rid of the things I didn't want any more, but didn't feel like they were worth the hassle of selling.  It quickly became a much more intriguing and gratifying experience.  The first items in the free box were a whole bunch of books (quality reads, might I add), old CDs, and a few trinkets.  I tried to watch the Free Box activity from my window, but the awning over the pizza place kept it out of sight.  The only times I got to check on it was when I discovered things to add to it.  My first trip down to the box it was clear it had already been ruffled through. Many, if not all of the CD's were gone and there were several books missing.  I experienced a sense of pure satisfaction as I looked up and down the street thinking of the many people now carrying with them my old possessions. Even more pleasing was the thought that people had sincerely gained something for absolutely FREE that they would enjoy.  I for one can certainly appreciate FREE gifts. 
On my next trip down to the box there was  man sitting on the steps deep into a book.  I said, "oh I'm glad you found a book you like!" He didn't even look up.  Strange, so I kind of snuck a look at the cover.  Tuesday's With Morrie "Never read it, but I heard it's a great read."  Still nothing.  Interesting and curious.  I added a few more things to the box and left the man in peace.  Well he sat there and continued to read for hours.  I kept adding items to the box as quickly as they found new homes with strangers.  Never once did I actually catch someone in the act of taking things, but the mystery was half of the fun. I finally peaked out to see the man was gone from the steps.  I felt a weird, fleeting sense of disappointment.  I went down to check the box, and there was a note scribbled on the corner of one of the flaps, "Thanks for Tuesdays With Morrie! I will pass it along to a Friend ~ Me" I looked up and down the street, he was no where to be seen.  The walk light blinked it's orange hand, the cars and pedestrians moved around me and life in Inman Square continued as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.  But in that moment I felt as though pieces of my life were sprinkled all over the place.  I thought of Ms. Rumphius and her Lupines.  I was so content and full of joy.

 Later that evening, as the sun began to go down over Inman Square and the intersection was showered in bubbles, we watched the Free Box Activity from across the street.  It was so fun to see our junk become other people treasures. The Free Box continues to be an important part of this move and even now, Sunday Evening, the box is full and ready to go out on the stoop in the morning.

Every new beginning...

There are moments when I don't feel anything at all. Then there are moments when I am completely overcome with emotion I can't move. I can't really breathe. I have been talking about this and thinking about this for so long and now it's all happening and it's happening fast. With every picture I take off the wall, every book off the shelf I am slowly taking my life here and packing it up. I am taking my things and leaving this place to someone else, for their story to fill this space, decorate these walls, and call this place home. What's even more intense is the thought that next time I wear this, or use this, I'll be so far away from everything I am used to. I won't be here. What makes this experience different than any of the other bajillion times I've moved is that I am leaving this place a completely different person than when I came.

I think this blog is beginning to take a certain twist and I just want you to know I recognize it's happening. I'm beginning to take you on a journey with me, or maybe that's been going on the whole time I'm not sure. But I feel that I don't want to stop writing. It's a type of companionship that I'm not used to.

Breath. In. Out. Wow. I haven't done that in a while. I've felt like the world is moving underneath me and the walls are coming down around me. And I would be lying if I didn't admit that part of me is scared. But not scared in a fearful, anxious way. Scared in an excited, calm, ready way. It's new to me. This is all new to me. I want to remember every moment and I feel so drawn to share it with you. I sort of feel that if you're reading this, there is something going on inside of you too. Something beautiful and something you can't ignore. That's the part of you I'm speaking to. So I pray that you come with me for a little while as I carve my way through this jungle. I'm not sure what direction we're going to go, I only know that I'm following truth. I also know that I'm going to go one step at a time.

Mantra

I let go of all I hold on to

so that I may jump into the current of life.

Stretch, stretch stretch....

I was never one for change. I find that I avoid saying goodbye at all costs. Excusing it with "oh we'll keep in touch, we'll see each other again." And perhaps at times that's appropriate. But usually it's just a way to protect myself from that scary, uncomfortable feeling of actually letting go. If I can sum up what I've learned from Bikram Yoga in one sentence it's this: We grow through pain, we change through discomfort. It's the places and the times that we challenge ourselves, that have the most transforming outcomes. It's often the scariest things we do that turn out to help us shed layers of conditioning to reveal who we really are. When we listen to what we yearn for, we our hearing our hearts.

I'm realizing that this journey I am on, these steps that I am taking, are evoking certain emotions and reactions from other people that I didn't really anticipate. I've seen tears and heard laughter. I've received criticism and envy. I've been hammered with questions. It's like I'm stretching my arms way over my head and really feeling myself getting bigger, taller, stronger, but as I go up and really

s-t-r-e-t-c-h out, I bump against the people around me. For some this if uncomfortable, annoying, painful, or reviving. For some it's a wake up nudge. Despite what it feels like or looks like to others, it is inevitable.

I am riding the current of life now and there really is no stopping me. I am picking up speed, charging up and taking off. I feel the momentum of Life, Spirit, and Love. I hear my mind, but feel my heart. I am releasing my fear, surrending to the Higher Power that is everything. I feel as though I'm standing on a cliff. Behind me I feel the pull of fear, doubt and insecurity. Out in front of me, the abudance of the Universe.

I'm ready to leap.

It's interesting how intimidating a blank page can be. The cursor, blinking at me patiently awaiting what will come next. I'll admit, I've sort of been putting this off. See, life sort of got going really fast on me and the moments came and went without waiting for me to write them down. I feel as if I've been picked up by a tornado and got whirled around then tossed out far from where I was in the first place. I have no idea how to share with you, my dear readers, the things I've been experiencing lately. Pictures and words are all I have to connect us together and I can only hope that what I share with you lights up something inside of you. Nepal was an experience that is still playing out for me and alive within me. In each moment of each day since my trip, I am constantly reminded of the world that is out there beyond what I see from my vantage point. Being on the other side of the globe was like a much needed therapy for me. Without a doubt I was awakened in a deeper way then I have been. Every cell of my being seemed to respond to the culture of Nepal. There is a beautiful and mysterious sense of spirtituality engrained in every aspect of life of Nepali people. This sets the perfect foundation for a culture that, amidst political corruption and economic turmoil, rises peacefully above with grace, compassion and generousity. Among the chimming bells of worship, the intoxicating scent of incense, and the sounds of soft chanting I was reminded often that quality of life is not measured by what we have, own or produce. Our souls are not nurished by those material things. Instead our souls crave a deeper, denser satisfaction. One that cannot always be named. It seems in a culture where pride is not associated with a bank account, and success is not measured what you own, there is a sense of fulfillment, peace, happiness, and joy that is contagious. However, I did not learn this from just looking around. I found teachers in the most unexpected place...

Simplicity. Sharing. Compassion. Laughter. Play. Affection. To just BE.

These are lessons that cannot be found in a textbook or within the walls of a classroom. There is no manual on them either. However, it is with these tools that we connect to the world around us and even more importantly how we connect with ourselves. I went to Nepal thinking I wouldoffer myself in service and ended up leaving there fuller and more grateful than ever before.

Life has an interesting and beautiful way of unfolding for us, if and when we surrender to the power that is all around us and within us. I am now at this place in my life where I have tapped into what drives me. I have always known what I wanted to do, but felt myself falling short of living my life in accordance with it. I felt myself restricted by money, time, resources and courage. I realize now that this is not how it has to be. Some may opt for this route, staying within the safe confines of a society that fosters a fear of the unknown. However, for the rest of us we know there is much more to life than that. So I ask you this: how are you fulfilling that almost insatiable yearning? How do you respond to that which calls from deep within yourself? I admit that the course isn't always a clear one, and the steps sometimes seem lost in the fog of uncertaintly. However, I am making the comitment to trust. I trust with all my heart that my destiny is to live in accordance with what my soul is calling for. Each day I promise to take steps closer to what that is. I have glimpses of the bigger picture, but for now I am living in the here and now; being true to myself in each moment. I hope that my journey reminds each of you that this life is ours. We have the choice to live with fear or love.

We are all here to be happy, fulfilled, nurished, and loved. Are you?

Namaste.