I have spent a good portion of my life in transitions. In the process of stepping into all things new. I always get really excited about the new adventures. I pick up my grateful mantra, “all things new!”, and then I jump onto the new path with fervent enthusiasm. Then, things start to change. Of course! Transition equals change. I hate change. It is very disruptive to my life which makes me uncomfortable and fussy. I long for the familiar, tried and true paths that I used to travel.
Speaking of all things new: I got married back in March. This shiny human is the great love of my life and we are navigating our own transitions as we integrate people and animals and things and spaces into a harmonious shared place where there is room for everyone. Wonderfully, this has been one of my easier transitions. We are currently renting a lovely space as we begin the process of moving forward to establish our own house and home.
The Chuckanut Property
Greg has had a beautiful piece of property in his family since he was a child. He spent quite a lot of time out there throughout his growing up years. He and his buddies would camp out, watching the weather and the stars and swimming in the freezing cold bay. In fact, they still have a yearly camping trip they call, Camp Dirt. This has become an epic celebration of the land, the water, their intertwined lives, and also their grilling skills.
Greg’s longtime dream for this piece of property has been to put a magnificent house on it and call it his home. I’m the lucky girl who gets to do this with him.
Until very recently, the Chuckanut property was a raw piece of land covered in tall grass, hearty weeds, epic old trees and miles and miles of ivy. It sits high above the beach property where all the campouts and contemplations have taken place over the decades. The fellas all know these somewhat treacherous but well-worn paths to the beach. I would bet they know these paths so well that they could hike them in the dark. I’m fairly new to the property and the paths but already feel that there is something really special about this place. I am looking forward to the progress and the home, but I also love it just as it is now.
Progress Can Look Like Destruction
Recently there was a crew out at the property to begin clearing the land. This is a great beginning to all things new and so we went out to check on the progress. Greg was wide-eyed with excitement and expectation. I, however, felt that old, familiar discomfort and fussiness that comes shortly after my “all things new” moment gives way to the reality of the adventure before me. Change.
The crews and machinery that clear land like this are not a gentle bunch. Things literally get torn apart and hacked up. The destruction of it sent waves of sadness through my soul. It was chaos. Admittedly, I know nothing about clearing land and building houses and all the steps in between. So naturally, looking at this space, I saw an overwhelming project.
Yet, the strangest thing of all, that really struck me deeply and caused me the most anxiety, was the fact that the paths to the beach were gone. Covered in debris. I found myself frantically trying to problem-solve how the fellas would be able to get down to the beach now that their paths were gone. And as ridiculous as this was, it bothered me all night and into the next day until I was able to be present to myself and acknowledge what was actually happening in me. Just like the current state of the property, chaotic and difficult to walk through, my inner landscape is going through some transitions of its own.
The Landscape Of My Life Is Changing
I mentioned earlier that I got married a few months ago. That transition is going smoothly, but the landscape of my life is changing. Last month, my youngest son, Gus, graduated from high school and is embarking upon his own, self-directed, adult life path. Wonderful! And also, my role as his mother is transitioning. The landscape of my life is changing. Even my practice, Roots Reiki, is transitioning from my initial, clear vision of what I expected it to become, to what it’s actually growing into and becoming. The landscape of my life is changing.
My familiar paths are buried. Old thoughts, patterns, and ideas aren’t relevant in the new space that’s forming. I don’t recognize the new landscape. I feel as if I’m being asked to trust a process that is nerve-wrackingly more destructive than it is comfortable right now.
Like Greg, I also have my dreams and my hopes for the future. For myself, my marriage, my practice. As I look back over the road I’ve already traveled, I see a great arc of learning and growth that I appreciate very much when the dust of the journey has settled and the new space becomes clear.
Change Is Hard. It Just Is.
I talk often about moving toward all things new and how freeing and beautiful it is. However, the way there is no joke. Change is hard. There is tearing down and disruption and uncertainty as the old paths get buried. There is fear, anxiety, stress. It turns out it is very hard for me to let go of how things are. Especially if those things are behaviors and thoughts that have served me throughout my life in finding stability and peace. It’s still hard to let go even when I realize those patterns no longer lead to the stability and peace they once did. But this is why I initially get so excited about the “all things new” adventure. I know things aren’t working and it’s time to learn something new.
A Clear Path Forward
The clearing of the Chuckanut property is the definitive path forward to Greg’s dream – our all things new, home-space dream. The process of clearing it is vital to the project. And the clear vision of the end is truly inspiring. I can see now how my internal landscaping project is not much different.
The day we went to the property to see the progress and found the paths buried, Greg effortlessly found a new way down to the beach. And so, gaining courage from his confidence, I am finding my own footing in the soil of this newly-cleared real estate in my soul. There is joy and gratitude as I remember successful landscape shifts of the past, and the freedom I enjoyed after all the dust settled. This ride is still a wild one but I’m more ready than ever for this next adventure into all things new~
If you would like to learn how to connect to your own deeper story and discover the landscape of your soul, schedule a session with me today!
