I've moved... now what?
I came here on a whim.
Which is sincerely the case.
Also, as I am so obsessed with the new photograph I bought in Colorado Springs, I have made it the feature of my blog. "A Chill in the Air" by P. Hanke has been the best money I've spent in... well, possibly ever. I can't stop staring at it, even as it sits on the dresser to my right. It's one of those photos one can get lost it. See you in five hours...
So now that I've got my (very small) amount of living things neatly scattered about the house in Boulder, CO, the real work begins: Why am I here?
Why did I drive 37 hours across the country, through torrential rain in Ohio, and past the only interesting thing in Kansas (a wind farm)? (Ok, so the drive could have been a lot worse.) Good question. I have no idea. Really. Not a clue.
Lisa and I discussed, somewhere along I-80 in Pennsylvania, the impetus for change. Many people find the motivation in a situation where the growing pains of change would vastly trump the pain of stagnation. However, this is not my case. I did not need to take myself away from accumulated suffering. What then can be the need for change? I then arrived at the notion of intuition - which is also a head-scratcher, as far as where it comes from. The only thing I've come up with and the only answer I'm willing to believe at this point is that intuition is Divine. Somehow, some way, moving to Boulder will benefit me. This is know. In what way, I do not.
I tell people I've come here looking for a job or checking out the dance and art community mostly because that's what they want to hear. They are true, because those things are part of my existence on Earth and I will of course seek out things to do while I'm here. But in my head, I smile, knowing that I do not even have the true answer while answering, "So what's in Boulder?"
The black clouds remind me that things get rough, and the sunflower reminds me that hope is ever-prevalent. The storms will pass and the flowers will die also, but the ideas of growth and change are bound in the abstract. Humanity cannot touch them, and so the Divine things cannot tarnish. What it means for my life is something to discover. :o)
Which is sincerely the case.
Also, as I am so obsessed with the new photograph I bought in Colorado Springs, I have made it the feature of my blog. "A Chill in the Air" by P. Hanke has been the best money I've spent in... well, possibly ever. I can't stop staring at it, even as it sits on the dresser to my right. It's one of those photos one can get lost it. See you in five hours...
So now that I've got my (very small) amount of living things neatly scattered about the house in Boulder, CO, the real work begins: Why am I here?
Why did I drive 37 hours across the country, through torrential rain in Ohio, and past the only interesting thing in Kansas (a wind farm)? (Ok, so the drive could have been a lot worse.) Good question. I have no idea. Really. Not a clue.
Lisa and I discussed, somewhere along I-80 in Pennsylvania, the impetus for change. Many people find the motivation in a situation where the growing pains of change would vastly trump the pain of stagnation. However, this is not my case. I did not need to take myself away from accumulated suffering. What then can be the need for change? I then arrived at the notion of intuition - which is also a head-scratcher, as far as where it comes from. The only thing I've come up with and the only answer I'm willing to believe at this point is that intuition is Divine. Somehow, some way, moving to Boulder will benefit me. This is know. In what way, I do not.
Welcome to Colorful Colorado! |
The black clouds remind me that things get rough, and the sunflower reminds me that hope is ever-prevalent. The storms will pass and the flowers will die also, but the ideas of growth and change are bound in the abstract. Humanity cannot touch them, and so the Divine things cannot tarnish. What it means for my life is something to discover. :o)
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