Done.

Done. Done. Done. Done.

"There's beauty in the breakdown."

Let go...let go...jump in...

It's interesting how relocating (my adult way of referring to leaving everyone you know and love with the exception of a few individuals 1,000 miles away, located directly in your comfort zone) can prompt you to learn things about yourself that you never knew; and some things you never wanted to know, to be frank.

I have found that "laying back" is surprisingly easy and that my friends, is SUCH a strange feeling for me. I have found that it's quite easy to leave work at work when the expectation is that you do so. I have found that not having anything to do all weekend long is, at certain points in life, the birthing ground for flying kites and becoming a kid again.

I have also found that my mind quiets quite easily if only in spurts at this junction, which also, my friends, is SUCH a strange feeling. I have found it quite easier to leave things where they are and allow yourself a chance to soak in whatever is floating out there, even if it may be less than thrilling.

Because, after all, life isn't always thrilling. Sometimes, life twirls around in your insides and shakes things up a bit. Platforms and soap boxes shake and microphones into which you've been screaming for eons topple over with surprisingly little force. Life isn't always about knowing what lies ahead or for that matter caring all that much what lies just past the horizon. More often than not, life is simply about embracing what lies...period.

And that my friends, is how it's done.

And the calm came...

"They sicken of the calm, who know the storm."

Few lessons have existed as vibrantly and intensely in the past. Few lessons have knocked me on my ass and then extended a hand to assure me that the fall will not be my demise. This lesson, a lesson that countless, dedicated, educated individuals poured over. A different rate of speech? A different concept on education in general? All things have been considered. All things, except, the absence of teaching, that is. The absence of instruction, of calculated phrases in a meek attempt to convey the need for calm. The need for letting go.

The frenzy of a mind on fire. The overwhelming urge to get up and busy myself with anything as to not be still. Escaping like the laundry thrown on the lawn during a pissing match. The frenzy has flown the coop. Alerting the masses will do no good because the gasoline poured and the match lit on thinking with needless frenzy.

Three weeks. I'd say I'm a damn quick pupil and for that, I will reward myself with a sunset soon. An anchor, to this place. Music. Conversations both bullshit and core shaking. Laughter. Remembering that I put the world on my shoulders and attempted, at best, to rotate a few times throughout a day. Strangely enough, the world was not placed there with expectations from anyone but this one. The globe has crashed and shattered into shrapnel reminiscent of wars waged for reasons not understood by the army itself.

No fairy tale, dirty laundry still exists. Gas still needs paid for and groceries still need fire and ice to become dinner. Just a soothing knowledge that I am responsible for only that which I choose to be. And Jesus...that realization alone is cathartic in the simplest but most complex form.

"I've come to a conclusion." "Here's the deal."

Sunsets and Exhaustion

"...have a deep respect for the depth of life and also for the ocean. For the forest, for the stars and for the truth..."

As I attempt to focus my heavy eyes on this glowing screen, I find myself most definitely, in a conundrum of sorts. A riddle, this week has been, with no true and steadfast solve point. Funny, I guess that in truth, a week has not passed. Not even seven days of this foreign terrain under my belt as of close of sunlight today. An even stranger truth is that in ways, I feel as if I've been here for eons and in ways, as if I have never peaked a toe onto the surfaces of this city.

I am thankful. And when I walk from my mailbox in one building to my desk in another tomorrow morning, I will continue to be thankful. In awe, really, of this place. A karma paycheck has been cashed somewhere and to whatever financial institution I owe, let it be known, I embody indebtedness.

I am also terrified. A good terror (in my mind, and possibly mine alone, terror can be a positive thing). An almost trembling wave works it's way up my femur and into my structural core when I think about the fact that I don't know what to think about the future. What it may cradle or dispose of along the way.

The realization that change is positive has not escaped me so don't worry that balanced on shoulders, physiological marvel, one minute about my knowledge of that fact. The pedestrian phrase "anything worth doing is difficult at times," seems fitting, even if cliche, at this moment. Happiness is only truly attained by those willing to step into a situation in which their sense of self, of the very being they've allowed themselves to become, is microscopically in question. I do believe, I am squirming within that red gel on the dish this very moment.

Not looking to reinvent a damn thing about this dame with the exception of the tendency to worry my lobes with needless bullshit tied up in packages that look eerily similar to assumed responsibility for his and hers alike. A reinvention not on the docket this day but rather, an addition to the functioning of the being that has found inspiration in the process and trusted it so. Scratch that...additions, of plenty, please and thank you.

A happy place but a vacancy in the heart that will only become more digestible as days pass and communication becomes technologically familiar and maintains a certain amount of structure and ease.

Closing eyes and relaxing muscles approaching. A belief in the grounding depth that is obtained when in the presence of a natural mass such as the ocean.

Ebbs and Flows

"The flowing in and out of the tide..."

A simple phrase. A simple definition. When applied scientifically, not a truly interesting or in depth concept. Ebbs and Flows: in common terms, when water reaches the shore and retreats into the mass of itself.

In life, however, ebbs and flows are intrinsically interesting and captivating in their delight as well as their shortcomings. When a person reaches a point of "ebbs," he or she will inevitably reach the point of "flows." For the faint of heart, I would recommend a constant state of "ebbing" as I have found recently that "flowing" is a rather difficult and heart penetrating task of sorts.

The ocean understands itself, if only by communication known only to it's inhabitants. A language of ocean clicks and chatter that to the common, none ocean dwelling ear, nonsense. But, just as a person breaths in air and exhales just the same, the ocean knows it's person and understands when the bell chimes for the retreat, the slow, mesmerizing, graceful unclenching of sand on the shore.

Although I have applied this ebbs and flows theory to times in my life prior, I find it all the more fitting in the days leading up to my journey south and a comfortable landing place on the shores of the ocean of which I speak.

Although the fluidity with which I except this retreat has had it's bumps full of balling, crying, snotty messiness, I am confident that I, as the ocean know my person well enough to know that the bell has chimed and it is my obligation to myself and those that have fostered all the good I have, to respond accordingly.

The beauty of the ocean tide is that, proven by the theory, it always returns to the place from whence it was birthed. Frequently, passionately, excitedly, it flows, time and again to it's home.

I find this organic foundation comforting in this transition and I am thankful that the forces I have been blessed to be attached to in my years leading up to now, are most definitely strong enough to bring me back...frequently, passionately, excitedly from whence I came.

Woo Sau

From excitement to decision to realization...

On March 12th, I sat with Robot in her apartment and talked through the possibility of packing up and making the move down south. At that point, my mind was racing about as quickly as it ever has as I fired off questions and what-ifs in her direction. It seems like within hours, I knew, if only in the back of my mind, that this was a legitimate possibility. A day later, as I sat squirming in my seat at SRQ, I knew that a change was coming with an organic motion behind it that was undeniable.

Using various songs, conversations and of course, pivotal quotes, the decision was birthed and nurtured to it's current state. There was a certainty in my soul that I have felt few times prior and I had to follow that certainty with every ounce. I remember thinking that this change was most likely going to rock my world more than I could conger and I think I can safely say, I was right.

I have yet to move a thing to Florida and already, the changes have been flowing...

Somewhere across the street, I got distracted by the brightness of the crossing guard's vest and froze a bit. The freezing commenced and although defrosting beckoned me in the form of positive thoughts and supportive individuals, I continually threw myself back into the path of old man winter.

Well, break out the ice picks and blow dryers because the unearthing of my calm has arrived. This experience is not one to be clouded by a negative nancy demeanor and a heavy brow. My experience, while it may have a different get up than I expected at it's inception, will be beautiful and tangled and chalked full of laughter. Of this, I am certain.

ugh.

I am exhausted both emotionally and physically.