This shock is not about my new physical location which I absolutely love. I'm so close to the sea and harbour I can see it from one of the rooms in the house. The town is pretty, vibrant and full of life. The closeness of the University means constant renewal, and I can feel all of that positive energy surging and flowing, just like the tides. The problem is, the uprooted tree has to know it's okay to start to grow again.
The house chose me. When I pulled up outside to view last summer, it 'spoke' to me. It was dirty, unkempt and unloved. The last in a line of pretty candy coloured town houses, with broadleaf trees standing guard outside their front doors. On the end, this house was like a sore thumb that couldn't heal. I talked to the house, and asked what it's story might have been. I felt delightful, childish energy when I came in, and that hasn't changed. The house, I found out later, had been empty for 23 years... That is along time to be without the sound of voices, laughter and the unique energy that human beings bring to walls of stone. The house had been waiting...
Does this sound whimsical and improbable? The egoic part of me says 'you bet!' The real me however knows that it is simply how it is, that time doesn't even exist and all of this is an illusion - a creation of my own thoughts and intentions - a picture painted by my own particular unique energetic frequency that is constantly making my moments and crafting this experience just because it can.
Seven weeks have passed since I uprooted, and not yet two since I moved into this house. Still so much to do, it is only today that I have a bedroom to sleep in. Only today have I begun to feel I can relax a little, and allow the first tentative stretching of bruised roots out into this space.
Life IS an adventure. It is a journey and not a destination. We all know this. But I had forgotten again. I lost myself in a strange and unfamiliar land where being awake was more weird and unnatural than being asleep. Being sensitive to changing energy is good, but sometimes it is also really, really hard.