{our frosty branch one morning}
I've received quite a few emails asking if everything is okay. Many so curious as to why I have been quieter than usual here in this space. And because it hasn't really been a conscious decision, I've had to ask myself the same questions.
I feel like moving here has birthed a transition within me, not just in body (obviously) but in spirit. Its been happening mildly, slowly...ever so gently but I feel like this is just the beginning of shedding layers, healing past wounds, opening to new ways of being in this world and restoring my spirit . I suppose with this transformation, I am listening deeper and paying attention more quietly than before. In the past I would work through my life by writing it out. Now I find myself sitting with it. Meditating on it all. Seeking in solitude.
Our lifestyle has changed so much, so fast with my husband working from home, just a door knock away, living in a real house with a backyard and front yard and neighbors that pop by, with forest a few feet away and ocean a few blocks away. We've been nesting and exploring. I thought when we first moved here, we would dive deeply into community but we found ourselves pulling in as a family. Slowly rooting ourselves, becoming familiar with our surroundings but mostly just craving togetherness. And it seemed until most recently, I only had energy for the three of us, really and creating a space that nurtured each of our spirits. Only just now do I find us having the energy and space to connect to community and to other parents and their children. Perhaps we were also following Cedar's groove, who seems to be at a time in his life where he is wanting to invite others into his wild imagination when for so long he preferred to be alone in his own world. Its so beautiful to witness him opening, connecting to others and how he seems to be able to find kindred spirits.
{cedar exploring frost for the first time}
{cedar pretending to be a barista making me a latte}
For over ten years I lived in an area where I didn't feel I belonged as much as I tried to. And the community that held me so close during my fertility journey was my online community of gorgeous bright creative motivated world changing bloggers. Connecting to my friends within this tribe was through emails and texts and comments on blog posts, facebook and twitter and instagram...and occasional meet-ups or retreats or phone dates. And for an introvert like me who needs a lot of alone time, these connections served my spirit. And of course, they still serve my spirit. I think because I was not connecting on a deeper level with anyone local, that I grew accustom to my online connections being the only friends I felt safe to let into my heart.
What I am realizing now that I am living in a seaside town full of kindred spirits, is that I have almost forgotten what it is like to have a friend that lives down the street that I can call and meet up. Or have people that show up in my life, not only on "my" time but also on theirs. It's as if since moving here, I have resisted this type of intimacy because it felt THAT foreign to me and almost a bit over stimulating for my introverted self. Although I know it is what I need and what my son needs and my husband. We have for so long talked about going back to simplicity as a family. Connecting deeper to nature, less time with technology, more reading, more community...slowing...slowing.
This is what I mean by a slow transition. I didn't want to drastically transition from online world to in person world. I found myself pulling back from my online life and sitting with it. Asking myself many questions. What is it like to live my life and not share so much of it publicly? I felt like I was constantly checking in with my heart...am I doing this for me? Am I doing this to share it with the world? Have I forgotten what it feels like to not be so SEEN? I wanted to remember. To remember what it was like to live each day and hold it close...for myself and those around me. I suppose it sounds a bit selfish as I am writing this out but I think for me, for us, it was selfish in a healthy way. Healthy in the way of cocooning or hibernating when you know your body needs rest and when you know in order to be a good friend, sister, daughter wife, mother, you need restoration of some sort.
Now that I am somewhat surfacing and opening myself up to this community, a few mamas have come into my life organically. A new cafe opened up here downtown for parents of children with a huge play area. I have met a handful of gentle mamas and a few where Cedar really connected with their children and we've exchanged numbers like we're "dating". I also have been invited into a women's circle by my dear friend in town that has held our family so gently and has been SO patient with my need to be quiet.
With all of this opening for me, I am in a space where I want to find a balance between my online connections and my in person ones. I don't have the answers yet but I am surrendering the idea of needing to have it figured out. As I am rising out of this quiet space, I see all of my dear, deep, soulful online friends rocking their online spaces; eCourses, workshops, books, book tours and so much more. On some days, it takes an enormous amount of energy for me to not compare myself to them, knowing that me pulling back, cancelling my eCourse, putting aside my book, taking a break from photography sessions, postponing teaching a class at a retreat this fall, was a healthy choice for me and my family during this time of transition. Perhaps there will be a time for me to enter back into being more public or perhaps I will dive deeper into this community and put my energy into those spaces. I am unsure. What I do know is that this next year, I am going to continue on the path of restoring my spirit and I am still learning what that is because I feel like so much is shifting.
{self portrait in our hotel elevator in Victoria, B.C.}
{getting a yerba mate latte, downtown Victoria}
Its actually been really nice living deeper in each moment without the urge to run to the computer to share. I notice I am more present in those moments and I am discovering a whole new kind of sacredness in this quiet. Perhaps I will learn how to bring this sacredness into my writings again.
So, I suppose all of what I shared may answer those questions I've been receiving in my inbox asking if I am okay. I am grateful that by you asking this question, I was given the space to explore it and learned that, yah...I am more than okay. It feels good to acknowledge that.