This is new. I’m nervous. And excited. And ready.
More than ready.
Friday morning, I breathed in the clean, crisp, and fresh air of home while embracing the warm sunlight on my skin. It was a welcoming combination to quell the butterflies in my stomach. Just 12 hours later, I would take a flight to Miami on my way to San Antonio – the first of many places I’ll stop on this journey.
I spent most of the time before heading to the airport attempting to memorize every aspect of the 21×7-mile rock I call home. It was a futile endeavour as I managed to retain a mere two images. I wish I had stopped to take pictures but there was no time.
When I got back to my soon-to-be former residence, I realized for the first time what I had done.
I’m not one to be impulsive about anything. I tend to measure a hundred times before contemplating whether or not to actually cut the proverbial cloth. My default setting is one that comes equipped with analysis paralysis. I was a marathon runner – long-winded, measured and always contemplating the next 20 steps instead of the short distance in front of me.
Not this time.
This decision reeked of my new actual self, the sprinter. The one who moves when intuition hits and lives in the moment.
I guess this is what moving by faith looks like.
The four walls I called home for the last seven years were bare. So were the closet and floors. The only remnants of my existence in that once sacred space were the a/c unit and closet organizers I had bought with my own cash to make it functional to my standards. The walls I paid attention to once in that span of time are in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint. The seashells I had collected over the years had left their imprints on the windowsill when I removed them.
It looked used, worn… lived in. A lot of life happened in that room.
I tried to control my life in there. I failed.
Sheba and I lived there. When she died, her pups and I struggled to meet each other eye to eye there.
I fucked a few men in there. Crass? I know, but life is life.
I rekindled old friendships and let go of others in there.
I started my blog and podcast in there.
I got fired and quit jobs in there.
I laughed and cried in there.
I hated myself in there.
I returned to a life with Jesus in there.
I learned how to love myself in there.
The path I am currently on was birthed in there.
This… journey of decrease to increase began in there.
The physical contents of my life have been reduced to two suitcases and a carry-on bag. It’s a little and a lot to digest but I’m good. I’m happy.
It took a long time to get here. This new chapter of life is one filled with discovery and possibility.
I haven’t thought too far ahead. I’m keeping things loose and letting God decide where he wants to steer me on this journey. I’m just here for the ride. I bought a plane ticket. I’m excited to see what happens over the next six months.
I haven’t spent this much time away from home since I left for university but I’m ready though.
More than ready.
I will miss home. Miss my family, well some of them at least. Miss my friends. My sisters. My brother’s dogs (and maybe my actual brothers?). I’ll miss the beaches and the perpetually serene skyline of good old funky Nassau.
I feel lighter, dare I say buoyant…
When I arrived at the airport, it was alive with the familiar buzzing of transient people. Remnants of pandemic mania were in play but for the most part, it was life as usual. Almost.
I have to give the latest global crisis a nod for aiding this newfound freedom. The pandemic played a game with rules nuanced with dictated absolutes. For nearly a year and change, it succeeded in crippling some economies while allowing others to do more than flourish. My field was part of the latter. A boon to many of us who loathe the office setting.
That once elusive level of freedom that only rich retired folk experienced was now up for grabs since the world forced remote work on almost everyone. It’s a step forward in a direction that I do not intend to retract from.
After five hours of flying, San Antonio welcomed me with a “balmy” 54 degrees a few minutes before midnight. My 48DDDs were NOT happy with that shit. Twas a shock to the system it was. I briefly longed for the 72 degrees I had left behind. This is different.
But I am looking for different so let the discovery and play begin.
—
Song: Put Your Records On
Artist: Corinne Bailey Rae
Album: Corinne Bailey Rae
Release Date: 2006
