Impending Journey

 I am about to embark on a journey.

This entry will not be my philosophical musings on a topic. This will be my page to empty my thoughts and excitement onto. Much like a journal or diary. I am doing this because I remember stumbling upon some old (non-blogged) journal entries in my old acer pro laptop. 

The intention: I was given this acer pro laptop by my friend, A, for skyping purposes when I decided to move away for a job. 

The result: I typed out my honest-to-goodness thoughts for the first time ever. Putting every ounce of faith into my laptop's ability to require a password. Also hoping that I was not so predictable that my mother might guess said password. It was the first time I had ever thought honestly out loud. It was incredibly freeing and just what the doctor ordered. Especially at the time. (Also, my mother and I used this laptop, a pair of cheap speakers and our neighbor's wifi to stream our very first episodes of American Horror Story. Again: a godsend at the time.)

Reading the aforementioned journal entries (years ago) was so fascinating - to properly get a glimpse of how I truly felt and thought and what I was actually going through. No mixer, no sugar rim, no garnish. Straight up.

I at least got a kick out of the little things. The things about the North Conway Experience that I had forgotten with time. There's always something you forget. Some of these things are not written down / logged and are forever lost (and maybe that's okay / for the best). For everything else that was written down; I got to experience that ever-cool "Oh, that's right!" feeling. Many people might do this via photographs / albums. I move a lot (leaving little to no place for sentimentality in physical form) and am dreadfully uncomfortable with technology / the ever-dreaded phone switch-over (it only takes one bad experience to forever assume there is no safe place for photographs & playlists). And so, I write. In a laptop. because all it takes is: Charge laptop. Turn on. Enter password. Open doc. Write. Save. Keep laptop away from fire and water. Repeat. 

Now that I have changed the game a bit by adding my thoughts / journals to this site: I've got an extra step of back-up (if I am unable to keep laptop away from fire and water). If I need to purchase a new laptop: I can simply log on here. Of course there is the possibility that this site will somehow get f**ked sideways and/or the entire internet explodes, but this is less likely and also: if there is no internet, we've probably got bigger concerns than recovering my insightful and hilarious thoughts nine years ago on taxes.

Holy shit. Anyway. I am moving again. 

I am dreadfully excited about this. There are plenty of reasons why, but let's focus on the little things. This will be the first time I leave town without it simply being for a job opportunity. I have worked hard to tie up loose ends (and for everything else: I am finally allowing myself to let go and let god). It already feels like the smoothest transition I've ever experienced moving and I haven't even gotten to the moving part, really. It just feels different. I am simply drawn to the new place. There are no feelings of fear / irritation / panic / remorse / second-guessing... this simply is what I am doing and simply is the correct choice. There is no other option. Not out of desperation, but (finally) out of something more beautiful / organic / just downright cool. 

I have no idea what I am going to do down there for work, but it has never been an issue for me to find work (I recognize some of this is luck, but most of this is my absolute stubbornness and ability). I visited once and fell in love with the place. It feels sunny and safe, even when it's raining. It's beautiful and real. And not in that dollhouse-facade way that a resort might be or that North Conway absolutely was for its visitors. It's sustainable, not unrealistic. I feel comfortable there. Of course that could be the company.

My home town usually feels familiar and comfortable and controlled. Small enough to not be overwhelming. I understand it. Recently it has felt stale and uncaring and too familiar. Too small. Like a place I should get away from / the reason why I am not where I belong / where I should be. This place is starting to feel like the place I visit before finally going home. 

I am finally not devoured by worry of how this change will affect every single person who knows me. I have found - even for just briefly! - the sweet spot between being selfish and being wholly uncaring for myself. I have broken chains. It feels like that long joyride in your new whip. Windows down, arm out the side. Fresh, cool breeze rushing its way through your fingers. Sun warming your face. Killer playlist on blast. 

I would like to mention to my future-self: This last month was / has been rough. Friends / the community, the job, health / the pandemic. But it has been rough in a way that only solidifies that you have absolutely made the right decision. And a few sparkling gems were still to be found. A few beautiful people holding steadfast and/or a new person here and there left to surprise you in (simultaneously) the biggest and smallest way(s).

This is easily the happiest you have ever been.
So if things ever get foggy, I hope you find this entry and say "Oh, that's right!"