Friday, October 2, 2015

The Universe Conspires

The universe conspires and it seems too good to be true. At any moment I wonder if the next person to walk into this room would politely approach the table I am sitting at and in a low humming whisper say, “Ma’am, excuse me, I’m sorry, but there’s been a mistake. We’re going to have to ask you to leave- this luck was meant for someone else.” This of course has never happened to me- this is the crap they put in movies to infiltrate your brain and keep you submissive and half-heartedly pursuing your dreams.  Given the trend of this karmic payment plan I’m cashing in on, surely the next person to walk in would say, “Excuse me, are you looking for a job?” 
I arrived in Utah less than two weeks ago on the train into Green River.  It was a moment of beauty- the air crisp and blue and bright- the blazing sun inching along the pavement into the shade of buildings- an expanse of sage brush baking- the railroad tracks- rural America- empty streets and with the passing traffic of semis and rvs- I walked with my bags to the taco truck at the old shell station and ate two chicken tacos at 9:30am. Deep inhale of satisfaction- that life is beautiful and worth every moment of anxiety and despair and heartache if I can come back to Utah on a clear day and eat tacos in the morning. 

Familiar faces met me soon afterwards- The experience was stark in comparison to my homecoming in Oregon. Instead of a feeling of sinking into an old reputation, old habits, old boyfriends, old rivalries, feeling like a child moving backwards on a toy truck- there was a spark of hope, a sense of unknown. I know nothing but the crystal clarity of intuition.  Follow it. And these wonderful people- who I’ve only known for 9 months, but came to greet me coming back and spend time sharing the details of the last two months as if it had been a reunion of old friends meeting again after years of separate lives. 

You have to know what you want. If you want to be builder, then you must build. Is it some faulty American trait to complicate the process? To think,  “I must do this and this and this in order to do what it is that I really want.”  I have to work so that I can retire. I have to go to school so that I can get a job. I have to get married so I can have a family. All this preparation and anticipation building up- and when you do finally get to this goal up on a pedestal, it means nothing. Always this, “what’s next?” “and then what?” 

Castle Valley, UT

So fuck the plan. And here I was. Here I am. I thought at the very least I would spend a month in Moab pursuing the work I want. And it felt like the homecoming I fantasized about. People that were acquaintances were happy to see me, my friends wanted me to stay, there were dance parties and potlucks and farmer’s markets to meet people at. So- it doesn’t hurt to ask. I started telling people I planned to stay if I could find a place to live- and the universe conspired. Friends offered me their couches, their bikes, their resources- And it happened quickly. I looked at an amazing room in a great part of town, called the landlord, and I’m moving in. I wanted it- I really wanted it, but I had no expectations. If it didn’t work there would be something else. So I’m here and I’m staying. When your life is in balance everything falls into place. 

Sunday, September 27, 2015

NW to SW

I recently travelled back to Oregon after living in Moab, Utah for 6 months. I thought that I would try living in Portland, pursue my budding interests in natural building and be closer to my family. I also felt like it was something I should do- that I had an unspoken obligation to return to the NW. Here I was like a salmon out to the ocean now sensing it was time to return to the stream I was spawn in. 

I felt- something. I felt it so much that I ignored several opportunities presented to me to stay in Moab and turned down a position that would have pushed me farther in natural building. I even turned down the offer to live rent-free in the home I had just built in exchange for dog sitting. Within moments of arriving at my parents house, my entire family waiting for me to arrive- I knew down in my gut that instead of feeling like I had returned home from a long journey, that I had really left something unfinished in Utah. 

The train ride from Salem, OR to Green River, UT

So I left Salem. And being back in Moab feels good.