I’m out here by myself floating in Pelican on the Intercoastal, sunny and calm. “Everything is new now”, said my friend in our women’s circle, except for the old inner struggles and patterns coming up for us to release. Even if we’re in our old homes, which several of us aren’t, we’re in it in a new way.
A full moon astrology report I read yesterday said even the stars and the planets are configuring in rare ways to assist us in our transition to the new and different. Hold on to the old at your own peril.
Some forces are at odds with each other – the old trying to hold on while the new sweeps in, sometimes unwelcomed. I think back to two month ago when Peru (and many other countries) closed their borders, leaving me stranded in Florida. I was angry, frustrated, sad, longing to go home, yet unable. I was looking for answers, how to fix the situation.
Then I moved into a phase of waiting and watching, observing the everyday-ness of my life as well as the responses of others to the global lockdown – watching what happens when we myopically focus on one problem while exacerbating many others. I watched the “craziness” of it while avoiding going crazy myself.
I’ve been living alone again for 12 days now in my new beautiful location in Lantana, observing another shift into a phase in the grief process called ‘acceptance’. It’s allowed me to truly appreciate all I have been given, trusting the bigger story to be more interesting than ‘when will I get home?’ I’m contentedly wondering what will happen next but not just to me.
In the meantime, I bought a new bicycle – one of my very own – with upright handlebars, 7 speeds and a basket. I ordered it online from a local sporting goods store and I await delivery next week, then a few more days to get it assembled. She’s purple and her name is Kulana. Until then, it’s me and Pelican and the Intercoastal.
I’ve learned patience these two months and I know waiting for the new will be worth it.
May 10, 2020