The pandemic hit while I was out in one of the most beautiful places in Washington. Sequim boasts a gorgeous spit and seaside, Dungeness crab, the nearby Olympic mountains and it's home of the lavender festival. The flat roads make it an excellent place to bike ride and nature here in unbeatable.
Eagles, hawks, coyotes, deer and elk are prevalent. In the winter I had the pleasure of watching trumpeter swans circle above a field of snow before landing gracefully upon it. I saw an eagle so close I thought it might land on me and deer curled up outside my window at night. While I was in this Shangri-la for 5 months, nature sheltered me from feeling isolated during the pandemic. I was so absorbed and protected by nature that rather than feeling scared and alone, I felt expansive and connected.
Somehow all of that prepared me to LEAVE a place you'd never want to to leave.
Who in their right mind would leave here, I wondered.
For months I tried to find property to buy out here and even put in a few offers, but everything always fell through. Sometimes I'd get so frustrated and wonder, why can't I find any place to live out here?
And I'd try to force the missing puzzle piece into a space that was clearly not meant for it. Have you ever tried to wedge a puzzle piece in the wrong spot. You want it to fit, but it simply doesn't, so you need to then let go.
But wow! Leaving and letting go is hard.
I don't know how I got to this point of leaving. All I know is that all signs pointed EAST. And it seemed strange and peculiar to me. Why go east? Well, for one, Scott's 96-year-old mother is there AND his friend who owns a carpentry business on the Cape needs help while he undergoes carpal tunnel surgery, so there were some factors. But there's something more than that. Something I may never know until I get there.
You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you'll discover will be wonderful. What you'll discover is yourself.—Alan Alda
Leaving a place of comfort is scary, especially when it is so beautiful. Yet my intuition tells me to go. Whenever I've followed my intuition, I've always been led to exactly the right place at the right time. I know it's where I need to be. I can't tell you why.
In the wilderness of my intuition there is no right or wrong. There's just what's right for each one of us. I prefer to dwell in this space because I find I to be very rich. It's an endless fountain of new information that unfolds and I'm open to it. I call this FLOW and I'm excited to let you know that I'll be teaching an intuitive writing class for 5 weeks starting on Monday, October 5th called From Fear to Flow. The class will be from 5-7pm Pacific Standard Time. You can read more about it and sign up here: https://mailchi.mp/a6a9804cf8c3/tools-for-our-times-from-fear-to-flow-intuitive-writing-course-offered-by-author-katherine-jenkins-and-seattle-psychic-institute
My intuition told me to check myself into a hotel room for a few days while my boyfriend sifts through all his belongings. I don't do well in complete chaos, so I felt called to come out here and say goodbye to the land and my family.
The flow is calling me to go and I can't know what I'm leaving behind as I step through this door. I can tell you that when all systems say "Go!" staying is not an option, at least in my experience. When I move against the flow of things, or against what my intuition is telling me, I find that I become stagnant or stuck.
I can't tell you this time has been easy. In fact, trying to pack up and leave this place has been downright HARD. I returned to complete chaos at my boyfriend's home. I could not fathom how we would leave on the day we planned to. There were boxes and clothes and tools and piles of junk everywhere. Some of it was mine, but most of it was Scott's. It challenged our relationship because I don't do well in chaos, yet here I found myself in one of the most challenging states of being for me and I was putting one foot in front of the other. We were working together and helping each other, albeit, in a crazy, unorganized kind of way. I can't say we didn't yell at each other. IT WAS INTENSE. But we both continued to move forward because somehow we both believed that whatever was on the other side of that door was worth it. We both believed in it. At one point, we realized that we'd have to let go of things. That the car carrier Scott paid for would not work on the car. Scott became more ruthless than I'd ever seen him. He let go of so much. A trip to the dump without giving a second thought to things that would normally seem important was evidence of that. It was his choice.
A friend called in the middle of all of this and I texted her back telling her I couldn't talk. She said, "Oh, you are in the bottleneck part of things." That was an understatement. I felt like I was back in the birth canal. I wanted out. I was in fight or flight mode big time. I felt like throwing in the towel. To leave was just too much. Scott was going through his own inner stuff. He would get side tracked or fixated on something and forget what he was doing. He began to punish himself or feel bad about not having it more together. But a day before we left, we both realized, SHIT, WE MADE IT THROUGH THE DAMN BOTTLENECK!!!! Whatever we both went through, we made it through and are better for it.
Now, you may think moving is no big deal, but try leaving your friends and family and everything you've come to know. Try leaving all the security that is in place for you—things you lean on and expect to be there. Leaving all of that for some UNKNOWN life, with a few "sort of" solid things in place, like a rental for three months and jobs that are a little shaky, but still there, was challenging! Add to the fact that the world is in a crazy unknown state as it is, this move seemed insane.
BUT it wasn't all about us. I know it may sound cheesy, but something bigger was calling us to go. And being that we've both done a lot of inner work, when that info comes down the pike, you go with it.
And I knew it was right when we shot out of that bottleneck onto the open road. I knew in every cell of my being that every single thing we went through to get to this place was right. As we headed out towards Eastern Washington, there was a slight haze in the sky. It felt like there had been some fires. The skies were blue, but there was something, another challenge, about to befall the West Coast. It literally felt like fires were on our backs as we drove East.
And there was rain all the way from Billings, Montana to Camden, New York. RAIN on the plains. It was unusual. When we woke up in our Airbnb in Upstate NY, the skies cleared. It was a perfect early fall day and we drove easily and happily through the Berkshires. We stopped at a rest stop and got fresh fruits and veggies from an Amish woman selling her goods from her farm. We stopped by U-Mass, Scott's alma mater, and finally we arrived out on the strip of sand known as Cape Cod, with thousands of stars above us and the ocean breeze and smell of salt water all around us.
We soon discovered we were lost, even though everything pointed to the fact that we were home.
We parked and fumbled around in the dark, stumbling down sandy paths looking for our home. Dozens of cottages were tucked in the trees, but we couldn't find our place. Scott took charge and called his friend who lives on the Cape. His friend said, "Try Google Maps, sometimes another GPS gets you there." That was the ticket.
Before long, we were in our three-story home with THREE bathrooms (after living in tiny homes and spaces with Scott, this was HUGE!) It was gorgeous. We went up to the top level where there is a look out deck and listened to crickets and stared at the Milky Way! We arrived on 9-11, but it was not an emergency. We were giving a new name to this date. It was a beginning. A time to face fear head on and enter FLOW. We are in that flow now. It's the reward of moving through something challenging. I have guilty feelings for all the bliss I've been feeling since I got here (more on that in the next post), but I can tell you with all certainty, that I'm appreciating every single second. In the end, we only have all the seconds of our lives that make up this one. Every second is an opportunity to move with the flow of life, even if it is hard at times.
Much love to all of you,
Katherine
No comments:
Post a Comment