I’ve been a bit preoccupied.
I’ve moved, and I’m thrilled.
I don’t usually post personal thoughts that go past creative inspiration and ideas for new online classes.
But it’s a new year.
And tomorrow is my birthday, so it’s a new year for me personally as well.
A new exciting beginning.
I’ve shared with people, locally in the markets and stores the past few days, that I just moved.
In the snow storm no less.
Conversation starter for sure.
They would ask where from?
Without thinking, I’d respond "Manhattan."
An automatic response.
But Manhattan was a move I made 15 years ago. I didn’t say where I actually moved from last week.
My own response caught me off guard.
But I think it’s part of my healing process.
Where I lived before was anything but a wonderful experience, and I realized I was already wiping it from my memory.
Oh I have lots of dreadful stories and tales filled with upset and sadness.
But I’m not really interested in giving them the time or the space here to remember and relive.
They are being wiped from my memory card quickly.
Here’s what I learned.
It can be challenging to enter a community as the new partner/wife to someone who had lived there their whole life, has raised a family there and started a business there as well as gone thru the ups and downs of everything life brings you.
There are so many preconceived notions thrown at you, you could drown.
I almost did.
But... and yes there’s a but.
I always look for the positive.
I believe in bloom where you are planted.
So I found like minded by using the internet.
I figured out a way to connect to the community I missed.
My business, CRAFTCAST, would not have been created expect for the passion and need of self expression and acceptance for my point of view.
That’s the silver lining to this story.
Like I said, I believe in bloom where you are planted.
But now, after years of gardening, I have learned that some plants need to be transplanted.
They might be too wet, or need more sun, or a place in the shade or more room for roots, and once they are planted in the right condition, they can grow and bloom to their greater potential.
This morning I went shopping at Trader Joes.
I love that it’s so close now.
The woman at the cash register and I started chatting.
She said, “Make sure to pack your bags so it’s fast to unpack when you get home. What if someone asks you to do something fun when you walk in. You don’t want to spend time unpacking and miss out.”
I liked her style.
I told her I had just moved here and the fun I’d be having was unpacking boxes.
She asked from where.
But I said I grew up near by. And how it was such a great place to grow up.
Being close in age, we quickly exchanged stories of how little supervision we had as children.
Basically be home at dinner.
We laughed at remembering the different ways parents would signal their kids to come home. Some rang bells, some clanged a triangle and some had their own personal call to the wild.
She then vocally demonstrated how her father would call for her to come home.
Right there in Trader Joes check out.
It was a mix of Carol Burnett’s Tarzan cry meets Homer Simpson’s laugh.
I loved her more.
We introduced ourselves to each other and then said our goodbyes.
As I was loading my car, I heard someone call out my name.
I turned and there was my new friend.
Her arms were outstretched, filled with a potted yellow tulip plant.
She handed me the plant then gave me a hug.
“Alison” she said, “Welcome home, welcome home.”
All my love for the best of new beginnings to all of you.