Six Months in Denver

The leaves are changing. I have watched the little elm tree outside my office window transition from bright green leaves into a deep red orange hue. When I first arrived in Denver, the last snow fall of the spring happened. I was happy to be here to witness the gentle flakes as they fell through the sunlight. It was different, unique and altogether strange. Life looked different to me six months ago. The summer here was nice. It was never too hot to enjoy the outdoors and I could finally sleep with the windows open at night!

I have transitioned well. It only took me 6 months to feel settled, to make friends, to explore, to leave behind all of the things that didn't have a heart, that didn't serve me well. I have realized the importance of letting go, so as to embrace the good things that come when a window is opened.  And I have learned that getting to a place that feels good, often doesn't feel so good while you are on the journey, but if you’re patient and wait for the “stuff” to flush out, it begins to feel better and better every day. A clearer picture will emerge, things will start to make sense and the life you have chosen will become more of what you needed than you ever realized it would.

Something feels different

Denver is a little different, that’s for sure. The clouds seem closer, the air feels fresher. When I look out on the horizon, the majestic mountains are there to look back at me. I feel very connected to my self and to nature, and more of an observer to the people around me. I am mostly content. I don’t have much and I left a lot of things behind but I feel good. My apartments furnishings consist of an air mattress, a few dishes, some clothes and my laptop. I feel like a squatter but despite it all, I’m happy. :) Pickles is with me and I couldn't be more grateful for her enthusiastic companionship.

It’s definitely colder here, the wind is stronger and louder at times. I miss the warm Texas weather a lot. It will snow here and then the sun comes out a few hours later, followed by grey clouds again. I thought the weather in Texas was strange but I see Denver has it beat. Or maybe it’s just the springtime in Colorado.

I think about a lot of things these days. It's all I can do for now. I feel like a monk in silence most of the time. Mandatory meditation, if you will. I wonder if I will be here for a long time, perhaps the rest of my life. If I will ever go back to Texas or if I will ever want to go back. I think about what Texas will look and feel like after I’ve been here a while. Will I even recognize it. I also wonder why I am resisting this change so much. Me, the person who loves and embraces change, who trusts that no matter what, I am doing the right thing, is resisting this one. I feel the winds of change all around the place. Not just in my little world, but everywhere. And I feel it more and more and see it more these days than ever before.
There is something to be said about silence and solitude. It brings out a lot of thoughts, feelings, awareness and questions. It's amazing what we are able to feel without all of the distractions.

Transitioning in Denver

You know that feeling you have when you’re 7 years old, staring down at a bowl of cold, sticky, flavorless oatmeal. It unrelentingly stares back at you. You know in your heart of hearts that it is not only healthy and good for you, but the only breakfast you are going to be able to eat this morning.

(Maybe you don't understand my relationship with oatmeal, but my Grandfather used to make oatmeal for me when I was a kid.  Without digressing too much, he just threw oats in water. That was IT).

And so you force it down. With every dreadful spoon, you tell yourself, “This is good for me… I should appreciate this, other kids are starving.. This is all I’m going to have to eat until lunchtime.” And even though you know these things, it still doesn’t make the oatmeal taste any better. It would have been nice to at least have a choice, right? Maybe even a little honey to make it taste better?

So here I am.

Day 7 in a hotel room in Denver, Colorado. A beautiful place. A healthy decision, the right decision, the only choice I really had; wishing for a sense of relief, my ‘honey’ in all of this gooey, uncomfortable oatmeal.

On my second day in Denver, I decided to venture out into the downtown area. I was still very tired from the 13-hour drive the day and night before. I shouldn’t have been driving around in those tight neighborhood streets filled with cars, bicyclists and pedestrians, but I was excited, curious and had to see what downtown Denver was all about.  I drove around for awhile and just about the time I decided it was time to head back to the hotel, I hit a curb and blew out a tire. Not only did I blow the tire out in a residential neighborhood, I also bent the rim. I got out of the car and assessed the damage. It looked like total shit. I was tired and dumbfounded. Without thinking too much, I opened up the back of the car and took the jack out. I had no choice but to forge ahead. I think I had hoped for someone to help me out a little on this one but after about 30 minutes of me jacking up the car and fumbling with the tire, I realized I was nothing more than a pitiful spectacle with Texas plates.  People rode, walked and drove by looking, but not a single person asked me if I needed help. Honestly, I don’t hold it against them. But it was such a clear moment for me to acknowledge my decision to be totally alone in an unfamiliar city without so much as a AAA membership.  I replaced the tire on my own and felt accomplished, however, I could have done without the cold Denver welcome.

On the better side...

Work has been great. My co-workers are amazing individuals, kind and friendly. I love my office and the company has been so welcoming. Besides my first few weird experiences here, everything is really, really wonderful. I am optimistic and ready for whatever is put in front of me.

This is what I wanted and needed. I am grateful for everything I have been given. Even the hard lessons. The transition isn’t going to be easy, though. Everything that needed to surface is surfacing. When we find ourselves alone like this it can be quite beautiful and painful. Our safety net is gone and we are pretty vulnerable. It’s a great time for introspection and letting go but it’s also a moment of great heights.

I had a breakdown the other night after tire #2 went flat. I looked at my car in despair: donut on the front, squished flat tire on the back, boxes in the back seat and my life in a hotel room in a strange city with nothing but unfamiliar streets and people. Weird. I was so happy to have Pickles here with me. I wonder if she knows how much she is my saving grace. She is my “Wilson” right now on this island

Denver calls.

Today I find myself more pensive than ever as I think about my future in a new city, a new job, a new home, a new life. This is what I wanted, right? Days away from my departure, there's a huge part of me that doesn't want to go. But it's the inner voice in me that says "I know it's going to be hard, but you'll be fine". Leaving this city, my family, friends and my wonderful studio and projects behind is going to be a sacrifice. But it's one that I know I have to make, for me. I know that the outcome is going to be good.

Life is a series of moments where we let go. Sometimes, that letting go also means to embrace change, whether it's the change in our surroundings or the change within our selves.

Change Forces Change

Re-sharing. This one is taken from the original blog I wrote on: Sunday, December 02, 2007

What would our lives be like if we were still doing the same thing we did when we were in High School? No doubt some of us actually know a person who is still "exactly the same" and still doing the same things they did in high school or college. Same job, same habits, behaving the same way. And it is likely that we feel a bit of frustration and/or sympathy for them as well. Obviously, they have a hard time letting go of the past or lack the courage to move forward in their lives. Perhaps they are "stuck". Fear is an unnecessary but powerful force. It can prevent us from making positive, life changing decisions in our lives. Fear of facing the music. It's what keeps us from taking those risks that we need to take in order to grow. My mother is still doing the same thing she has always done, with no results. She has expected change to come knocking on her door in the form of Ed McMahon from Publisher's Clearing House. Guess what? It's not going to happen. You have got to be more proactive, you have got to put your silly fears aside and start living. I mean really start living. Change what you're doing if you aren't seeing any results.

Change forces change.

It may be something as simple as a slight adjustment, a career move or as drastic as moving to Paris to study fashion. Either way, just do it. Nobody ever got anywhere by not taking risks and challenging themselves. Could you imagine where our world and technology would be today if we never had risk takers? The Wright Brothers would have never flown; Electricity would not have been discovered, Harry Potter would still just be a single mothers' dream.
Nothing is going to change unless you throw a wrench into your life and mix things up a bit. So, what would you do if you weren't afraid?