What am I doing in Seattle?
Let's catch up and answer that question.
In mid January I received what can only be described as an intuitive hit that I COULD NOT ignore. Move. To. Washington. Now. The “now” part was especially clear.
Even though, at this time I have my oldest and youngest daughters living in Washington and a brother and his family there, not to mention that I’d have just a four hour drive to my daughter in Oregon and there’s a strong network of breast cancer survivors in the area, absolutely no part of me wanted to actually move to Washington.
Visit often. Sure! Move there and live there? No. I love the sunshine of California too much, I have a home and family there, it’s where I grew up, it’s where my community of women is and the businesses I collaborate with. I had no desire to leave.
But the message was loud and clear. Now.
By March 1, I was in my car driving north. Literally, I packed some bags and got in my car, I was headed to Kirkland, Washington. I had a room to rent, that was as far as my plan went, and we all know what happened next. News was just coming out about Kirkland being the epicenter of Covid-19 in the US, and I was headed straight for it.
My first thought was, well played Universe, the joke is on me. That’s a good one. Later when lock down orders were issued, businesses closed and travel restrictions were imposed, I began feeling very disconnected from myself and what I was doing. I shared this with a dear sister, living in California via Zoom and her brilliant, inspired response was so simple and clear. Can you imagine if you had stayed in California and you weren’t able to be near your daughters during all this?
No. I could not.
Despite that, nothing felt easy about being here. The world was on fire and I felt like I was being torn in two. I cried a lot, and when the 8:00 howling became a thing, I howled a lot too. I’ve been in the fire of uncertainty before and so I did the only things I knew I could do to find comfort, walk, meditate, love, baths, nourishment.
Trust is all I had to go on. I knew I was meant to be here, I didn’t always know how or why, but I knew that it would be taken care of. I would be shown the way forward and I knew deep in my bones that everything would somehow be, more than ok. In fact, I shared with my sisters that even in the midst of all this I somehow felt oddly optomistic, I still feel that way.
I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been here, I suppose six months. Yes, I miss California ... and I’ve put down some roots here, I have my own place, I see my daughters regularly and I’m really loving it here.
I don’t think I’m supposed to say this, in fact I’ll probably be exiled by the Wahingtonians for doing so, but it’s gorgeous here, the sun does shine and it’s amazing.