According to my wordpress stats, ahem, its been 7 months since I’ve posted anything, and even before that, this blog has seen very little action in the last 2 years!
What have I been waiting for??
A lot of things distracted me in the time since I returned from my year abroad in Italy. The adjustment, coming back to Winnipeg (eww), coming back to reality, took some time. Months actually. I hid out at my sister’s place, out of town, and couldn’t handle the city for more than a couple days. The work that I had accomplished in terms of the healing process seemed to have come undone once I got home. It was a sobbering realization that the work was not over yet, but that in itself is another lesson learned, and much appreciated.
It’s hard to believe that 3 years have passed, and in that time, since those empty beginnings, I somehow have managed to build an entirely new life. It’s hard to put into words, I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it all for months now. So, maybe it will happen here, doing this…
I managed to escape reality for that year in Italy. No rent, no bills, no job, no car payments, no attachments of any kind. In our society, fast paced and merit based, one could easliy argue what kind of existence is that anyways? But I was free, and so blessed to have had the necessary time to heal and learn and grow, put all the pieces of my shattered self back together.
I remember, at the time of it all, that I was comitted to the process. I said, or wrote, or thought, that I wanted to break into a million pieces, I wanted nothing left, I wanted to face all of the pain and heartbreak and feel it all, because I wanted something new to come of it. I suppose I was looking to be reborn. And even if I lost sight of that, it is now crystal clear to me, that is exactly what happened. Intention setting… The universe is listening, and delivering whether you know it or not.
In writing this (ahh writing, it feels so good!), its also clear to me that what I went through was not just about one person, or one heartbreak. Maybe the reason it hurt so much, for so long was because it went deeper than just that. I don’t know how I never thought of this until now, but I suppose, as I sit here in my new life, totally and completely inspired, I’ve made it to the otherside, where perspectives can form.
I’ve spent the better part of my life talking about escaping Winnipeg, dreaming about the goings on of other places in the world. A love affair with Paris that sustained me through my early 20s, Manhattan lived through repeat upon repeat of Sex and the City, L.A. and the west coast as seen on the OC and Californication (yeah, don’t judge my taste in T.V., it was escapism clearly!). Then I began travelling, and most often would cry every time the plane touched down in Winnipeg, back again.
Most of the time I sound like an awful hater of the small town big city as they call it (do they call it that?), but now that I’m out for real, the idea that I simply didn’t belong there is truly what all the fuss was about.
It’s amazing to me how my life has transformed, and in so little time, since making the move out west. The thing is, when you find where you do belong, everything falls into place, seamlessly.
I loved Vancouver and the mountains, from the first trip out. The diversity and multiculturalism made me feel like I was travelling abroad. The sound of so many different languages being spoken was so refreshing, and something I only thought possible across the Atlantic. The energy of a place that is alive, vibrant, on the move, a connection to everything, a place where you’re a part of something, simply by being here. I remember the first time I ever felt that kind of energy was in Paris, 10 years ago.
Since being here, every aspect of my life has changed, in some weird, yet calculated culmination of all that’s happened since Italy. I’ve quit smoking, I have a new vehicle, a promotion, and now finally, after a decade of being a nomad (at times ‘joking’ about living out of my car), I have a home. A beautfiul, and tranquil place where I can stand still and begin to build something, as opposed to always scrambling in chaos to pick up the pieces of my life.
And so I sit, with my jazz music and a glass of wine, doing what I love. Up writing late at night (on my macbook air, another dream come true, I just love typing on this thing), appreciating the journey from escapism to life, (complete with a job and every bill imaginable!) and full of love.