All Who Wander Are Not Lost
“Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.” ~Henry David Thoreau
Last year I had a strong urge to get lost. I was ready for some major changes in my life and after about 8 months of feeling an intense desire to completely let go of my old life, I went for it.
I started planning in my head. Making lists of the things I needed to do, saving money and downsizing, big time. Slowly, I retreated from the ways of my old self—not going out as much, thinking about what I really wanted for my life, and letting go of people who no longer made me feel good. None of this was easy, but the desire for change was so strong that it overpowered any inclination to stay in what was then “my current position.”
Back then, everything looked cool from the outside. I had a killer condo in the middle of the city, tons of friends, cute boyfriends and a “fun as hell” social life. The problem was, I was completely and utterly over it. Not only was I done with doing the same things over and over again, I was looking to completely disappear.
I don’t want to be alone, I want to be left alone.” ~Audrey Hepburn
Then, four years ago, I had an extreme experience during the first time I meditated, which changed the direction of my life. After 20 minutes of doing T.M. (Transcendental Meditation), I opened my eyes and realized everything I ever knew was wrong. Thus began my journey “taking the road less traveled.”
I longed to be alone, to be in nature and to write. Everything else just felt like an unnecessary distraction. I now had a deep purpose in my life, and “partying” wasn’t fitting into this new picture. So, I booked outta’ that old lifestyle like my life depended on it . . . because it did.
These are the steps I took (and by the way, I was very organized about it, giving myself a lot of time, so I wouldn't get overwhelmed):
1. I sold all of my shit. I mean, I sold anything and everything that would make my moving a pain in the ass. If I hadn't worn something in over a year, it went out the door. Furniture, purses, dresses, shoes and all my books—gone-zo! This maneuver had the added benefit of giving me some cash to make the move even easier. (I wrote some tips on how to declutter your home (and life).)
2. I quit my job. If I was going to move and spend all my time writing a book, I needed to be living on my own schedule. I gave 2 weeks’ notice and had faith the Universe would show me the best way forward.
3. I started advertising the rental of my condo, and in one day I had 3 applications! Ding, Ding, Ding! A definite sign of support from the Universe!
4. I found a perfect place in the middle of nowhere and just closed my eyes as I signed the lease. Again, trusting the Universe has my back . . . and is always guiding me to more and better.
5. I let all my friends and family know I was getting ready to roll, being really easy with everyone, so there wouldn't be any freak-outs. Mission accomplished!
6. I rented a U-Haul and watched my old life get smaller as I looked in the rear-view mirror.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared, but the pull of this new life was just too strong. Now, looking back, it was one of the best moves I've ever made (no pun intended!) . . . by far!
Wanderlust
A Love Affair with Five Continents by Elisabeth Eaves “A travelogue-and-chronicle-of-self-discovery spanning fifteen heady years, written in the form of essays by a woman who provides insight into what young women face when they travel independently and step beyond the pale of contemporary roles.”
So, if you have a nagging desire to make any major changes in your life, why not entertain the notion that it’s the Universe/Life Itself/God nudging you, signaling you, “Hey, to get the new-and-improved life, you have to go for it!”
I mean, really . . . What do you have to lose? Nothing could be worse than carrying a suitcase full of regrets. In my increasingly wondrous world, the cost of not listening to your heart is just too steep a price to pay . . .
Just do it!