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.

this city

Chongqing. 

You are a great city. So vast, so expansive. So new, towering concrete skeletons pressed up against grey skies. Historical, brimming with the old. the rivers run together & weave their way through this vast country. Your greatness is just beginning to flourish, plans & work in preparation for even bigger & better. You are a maze of streets, hills & mountains. You are levels & fog. You are a visceral hum. You are sharpening patience. You are new stresses & challenges. You are dirty, crowded & stubborn. You are a valley in between great walls of hills & mountains. You are sheets of rain falling for days. You are a haze shielding the sun. You are humid, sweat beading on my upper lip. You are brushes against strangers, noisy subway cars, children screaming in the streets. You are quiet moments, night time walks with the crickets & the frogs. You are the swarm of mosquitoes that crave. You are the sleepless nights, lights from opposite towers streaming in windows. You are infrequent breezes, air so heavy; a tangible thickness. You are pride, you are struggle. You are change, you are progress, you are forward motion. You are spicy, red peppers in oil. You are bridges and tunnels. You are subway tracks running along river banks. You are uphill walks. You are incredible moments of beauty. 

You are forgotten by many, but loved by many more.