change.

There's a shift in my surroundings lately. I'm picking up all the things I've collected over the past two years, or have travelled with across continents & oceans. I am getting rid of a lot of things, purging my closet of all the cast offs that were purchased without really giving thought to its needlessness.

I'm spending longer moments in the morning just taking in my surroundings. I am the most habitual create of habit in this wild kingdom. I enjoy routine, I enjoy systems, I enjoy the comfort of knowing what will happen next in my day. I make a very big effort to plan out the details so I have full control over all the possible outcomes. If I do this, then this may happen. Or may not happen. Ok. I need to be prepared for both. & when I'm not, I feel lost & incredibly grouchy.

Change is this for me. I feel lost & foggy. Like I can't get my thoughts together to start the day because I don't have a routine. I don't have structure to my existence.

This is something that is coming for me. Change in a big way.

I am moving to a new city in less than two weeks. I've been to this city a few times now, trying to get a small grasp at what is to come - how I will structure my life in this place. Fully formed with all it's foreign people - it's groups & circles. It's spinning wheel of normalcy, for so many.

I have moments when I am soaking up my morning, with my warm cup of coffee in my hand, looking out onto the quiet courtyard beyond the balcony. Birds joining in unison as the breeze sweeps hair into my face. I feel this comfort of knowing that mornings are this. They are slow steps walking across the wooden floor of the open space in this studio apartment. Yoga on the big windowsill. The dining room table, my desk. Hot baths when I need to think. Moving furniture to pack my yoga students in twice a week. Watercolor paints on the floor late at night when I need to release my thoughts. Steam rising through the kitchen when making tea, that fogs the balcony window in the living room. Afternoon naps on the long length of the couch, sleeping in an L shape because it helps to block the sunlight from my closed eyes. Running up the flights of stairs in the open space inside the building. The small rooftop landing that overlooks the neighborhood & downtown in the distance. Getting glances from the lady who takes out the trash - I always wonder what she is secretly thinking as she mops the floor outside our front door. Hanging damp clothing on our rack next to the hanging plants. Overlooking the dozen other buildings with clothing hanging on their balconies. The hushed distant sound of the buses and cars moving across the river. The way the table creaks when I am writing on it. The weight of our front door as I pull it closed behind me. The dim light that warms this space. This city that has taught me to be better, less reactive & more responsive.

I feel like there are many things about picking up & moving that will only produce more beautiful change, more opportunities to grow & more space to create. I know that no one loves change. We like comfort. We like to know that we can hold on to something & it won't disintegrate in our hands. It's just that initial moment of separation. That driving away from our home in the moving truck and knowing you may never be here again. That longing for all those moments you took for granted. I am feeling nostalgic for the present.

Reminder:
Nothing is forever.