California was everything I could have hoped and then some. The time with my kids there was sort of my idyllic family vacation: we went to the Exploratorium, took a two-day road trip down to Santa Cruz, dipped our feet in the Pacific, tried out some exotic restaurants. The whole experience felt very full, and not in a way I’m especially inclined to talk about. Low on words, long on afternoon naps and sunshine and sessions in the hot tub. Lovely.
I was there so long there were epochs. The time alone. The time with E and her baby. The time at Pantheacon. The time with Molly and all the kids. The time with just my kids. It was like taking four or five back to back vacations all at once in the same place.
The inner work I went there to do happened very fast. I wanted to know more about myself, to make peace with who I’m becoming on the other side of a lot of change. I wanted to heal after reopening a lot of old wounds. I wanted to make sense of my place in my marriage. These were big questions, and the strain of dealing with them was literally tearing me apart – before the trip I was suffering from nerve pain, wrist and hand pain, near-daily migraine headaches and some serious physical symptoms of PTSD. In California I was healthy.
I gave myself this long trip in part to make time for all those questions and issues to get sorted, but I didn’t really need all that time. Within a few days I’d found all the intellectual clarity I needed about what changes I wanted to make to my life at home, and they were small things. Sleep more. Exercise. Relax. Make time for the people I love.
After the storm had passed there was nothing for it but to live and play for several weeks, which I did with abandon.
Now I’m home and diving in to life here again. I brought my tranquility and energy with me, of course. We’ll see how long it lasts. This morning I got up and went to yoga at the studio near my house. I worked a good long day writing. I picked up a knitting project that is making me ridiculously happy, making a stripey bag for my yoga mat. I cooked dinner, trying out a simple recipe from my favorite cookbook.
In so many ways, it’s like I never left. My house is just how I left it, my office untouched. My routines are the same, running along in deep grooves. My friends and loved ones have surely changed in small ways, but their familiarity is what’s most striking now. I’m shocked at how easy it’s been to simply step back into the stream of life here.
What I’m saying is, life is good. I’m happy, and deeply aware of how fortunate I am. I’m holding on to the simple treasures of my time away – the meditation practice, the exercise routine – and embracing the familiar wonders of home, family and community.
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Sierra Reply:
March 8th, 2011 at 7:26 pm
My all-time favorite is probably Moosewood, but my current fave is a book called the New Brooklyn Cookbook, which is a collection of tasty recipes from different Brooklyn restaurants.
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