Women caves are colorful, cyclical, and subjective; the dwelling of peace, a place that literally speak to us, where the “this is me” is plastered on every wall. There, we think – sometimes too much-we sculpture the life we dream of.
That’s where I've been for the last month or so.
It’s been a brutal winter which helped in my decision to retrieve and work on a plan for the changes coming my way. A lifelong learner by nature, I have devoted some time to take some nutrition courses, sitting on my favorite blue chair accompanied by towers of unread books. Afternoons have been spent teaching my online courses and walking around whenever the snow allowed it. Sketching the new look hasn't been easy. Once again, I’ll stepping in a new town, surrounded by things I’ll have to turn into little pieces of me, new people who will struggle to pronounce my last name, and the air from the west trying to get used to my lungs. I've made long to do lists, possibilities lists, do’s and do not’s. In the end, I've filled the trash can with balls of shrunk paper never to be reviewed again. The only plans I've kept are those pertaining to my seasonal gardening calendar, thanks to the always accurate Farmer's Almanac.
So this is what I re-discovered. Life can’t be planned; we would miss the adventure of the unexpected. We would deny the amazement of dealing with it as it comes unveiling the best and worst of us. We would be blocking our capacity of growing, learning, and becoming our true self. What’s the final verdict? Let it come and let life live through me as it is.
Well used, caves serve a purpose, to reconnect us to our true being. It is only through silence that we grow our ability of listening to our inner voice; the GPS of the soul. So, I am out, ready, excited, and embracing every moment as it has always been. Spring is coming and I am filing my days with new colors!