Reflections as I Leave California

Yesterday, I left my homeland (of my whole life) in the Bay Area, California. I'm moving to Minneapolis, and I'll be stopping by Utah, Colorado, and South Dakota on my way to my new homeland!

I find myself feeling simple and without many words. The last few months have been rich of complex feelings, paradoxes, synchronicities, insights, deep fears, profound dreams, grief, joy, surprise, wonder. Saying goodbye to my farmers, friends, and family. I've been crying and feeling complex feelings a lot these days, yet that's okay. My friend Anodea reminded me recently that grief is a form of gratitude. I love what I'm leaving behind, yet I must let go. These tears feel purposeful and meaningful. A recognition of the gifts I've been given (and actively created) in my life. Life feels so poignant right now. I'm ready for what's next, yet I'm also still processing what I'm leaving behind.

I'm looking forward to finding more of my creative voice out in Minneapolis. One of my farmer friends at the farmer's market Craig shared his excitement for me to experience the brutal winters of the midwest. He told me about his friends who live out there that don't get phased by scary things like their car spinning out and their . "Cold winters build character. They vitalize you." I'm so ready to grow a thicker skin, in all its challenges and learning curves that I can feel around the corner.

Most importantly, I'm looking forward to stepping into the unknown, and not needing to have fixed ideas or predictions about what this next chapter will offer me. I'm eager to wait and see the magic and opportunities that arise by staying open to my environment. And who will I meet out here? That'll be a fun mystery!

I've received so many rich blessings from friends in California. My friend Justin visited me the other day, and shared his excitement for me out in Minneapolis. "Knowing you, you're going to attract people from all walks of life. I can't wait to see what you do out there." Something I've realized during this time of transition is that I've manifested such a beautiful community around me. Most of my short life so far has felt a bit individualistic, in which I've enjoyed my solitude and building my own sense of Self on my own. Yet in the last handful of years, my energy attracted good people in my life. I take this as a sign that I'm on a meaningful path. "Return to grace when you're in doubt, and know you have a destiny," were some of Anodea's last words to me.

I've been singing, playing guitar, and reading poems a lot these days. Nothing truly describes what I feel inside more than this poem by Rumi below.

Learn the alchemy true human beings know!
The moment, you accept what troubles you've been given,
the door will open.
Welcome difficulty as a familiar comrad.
Joke with torment brought by the friend.
Sorrows are the rags of old clothes and jackets
that serve to cover, then are taken off.
That undressing,
and the beautiful naked body underneath,
is the sweetness that comes after grief.
The hurt you embrace becomes joy.
Call it to your arms where it can change.
A silk worm eating leaves makes a cocoon.
Each of us waves a chamber of leaves and sticks.
Silk worms begin to truly exist
as they disappear inside that room.
Without legs, we fly.
When I stop speaking, this poem will close
and open its silent wings.

Below is a snippet of the final dance I had at the wonderful home that gave me a roof over my head this last year. I edited in some videos of some of my last moments in California the past few months. Hope you enjoy, Hive community!