Re-Homing Myself: A Journey in Making Space and Allowing Surrender
(Click below for the audio file.)
As I pulled up to the Air bnb- a cute white-lap sided bungalow with a beautiful lush green mountain as a backdrop, I felt the slightest tinge of relief come over me. There were healthy and full planters of various flowers hanging from the balcony. And a gorgeous salmon pink and white plumeria tree at the entrance to the front deck. I was glad to have arrived, and relieved that the pictures from the Air bnb app were accurate.
As I got acquainted with the place it seemed that there was a welcome mat of synchronicities that drew me in as if I had arrived at a surprise party.
The first thing I noticed was that my husband had talked about getting a Jeep, and there was a Jeep parked in the driveway. Then I learned that host happened to be German-Swedish! I instantly felt connected to the German home we had just moved from. As she greeted me and walked me through the main house, my eyes opened wide seeing a few scattered posters with German sprinkled in. “Ich liebe dich” (I love you); “Wunderlust” (a longing to seek new adventures and destinations.) And the host’s dog was named “Rose”, the name of my beloved grandmother!
The yummy appetizers of synchronicities continued as she showed me the room where I would be staying. The space itself wasn’t glamorous, but its simplicity felt comforting and I started shifting into a realm of curiosity. Indeed a nice reprieve from the anxiety I had been feeling about taking this trip in the first place. (More about that here.)
My curiosity led me to seek what books were on the narrow but tall bookshelf. My eyes quickly recognized several books each reminding me of a part of myself. There were travel books on NYC/Brooklyn (my hometown), Costa Rica (where my husband and I went for our honeymoon), and the Tao of Pooh, a favorite of mine and it was in German! With all these pings of what felt like spiritual support from different parts of my life- I asked: “okay-where’s a book that reminds me of my kids”. And there nestled among other nondescript books was my answer, a book called: “little BIG things”, an endearing sentiment I have towards my growing children!
After getting situated, I went to ask the host a question. After answering me, she invited me to hang out with her and some friends for a birthday celebration they were having. Normally I would have said, “yes” without hesitation as a night out meeting new people would have been a perfect start to my getaway. But when I said, “no thank you. I just need to go to sleep”, I could tell that this was a weekend I hadn’t known how much my body and being was really needing. It was only about 8PM, but without hesitation I allowed myself to just crash into the bed for the night.
Even with a long sleep, albeit a bit restless in a new bed with the distant sound of celebrating happening, I awoke in the morning with a headache.
Immediately, my brain was annoyed all over again. “See, what was the point in coming here? You went to bed early and now you have a headache. And anyways what are we supposed to do today?!”; with that last question aimed at God. New territory, a headache, and before my morning coffee—definitely a justifiable trifecta for grumpiness!
Letting out an audible sigh, and with the desire to fix my headache I clambered out of bed to find Tylenol in my overstuffed “weekend” bag. Even though my brain was still very annoyed about "not having plans”, the bribe of finding coffee kept me from getting back into bed to continue my pouting.
I found some suitable coffee-making-something in the room and decided to go sit outside. Sitting outside is always an escape that interestingly my brain, soul, heart, and body all enjoy. It’s like when the mom, dad, and kids all like the same movie- everyone’s satisfied without any real action happening.
When I sit outside, there’s some internal, unwritten permission that allows my whole self to just be. If my brain wants to be “productive” it can think or look at the scenery while my body enjoys the simplicity of sitting. And while my heart feels the inviting energy of nature in front of me —the swaying trees, the chirping birds, the colors of the spring flowers or changing fall leaves. The movement of the breeze or the quiet of the air help me to settle into the moment. And in the midst of all that inner camaraderie, my soul can just relax.
As I sat sipping on my coffee, my brain reviewed the few rules I had for this trip. These rules felt like the guidelines to a workout when I don’t want to exercise. When I don’t want to exercise but feel like I need to, or of course when the “should” gets its way—I say to myself: “okay, you have to at least run for 15 minutes. Or, you have to at least do 20 push-ups and 20 sit-ups and two sets of 15 reps of curls”, or whatever.
And so with this trip my guidelines were: “no TV. You can get on FB but only for a few minutes here and there, and you cannot interact with the posts- no ‘liking’ posts and definitely no commenting. You also cannot call friends. This is not a time to ‘catch-up' with anyone.” (Although I did allow myself to call one friend whose birthday it happened to be. But I made it a short conversation.)
I decided to restrict myself from calling a friend because I didn’t want to have the feelings of digesting and sorting through what was said in the catch-up conversation, which I often do. I also allowed myself to briefly get on FB because I didn’t want the resistance of not looking at it to take up energy. But I also had the guideline that if I was going to look on FB, then I had to check in with my “why”. It was okay if I was just kind of taking a break from my aloneness. But if I was getting on FB because I was trying to avoid a discomfort that I was feeling, then I’d have to just sit through that discomfort. Kind of like that workout—I’d have to just push through those 15 minutes of jogging even if I was tired.
As the caffeine slowly but surely brightened my brain’s outlook on the day, especially now after the review of the “guidelines”, options for what to do next floated into a “plan”, further calming my brain’s initial resistance to this trip.
I took a quick look on the google map which showed me some possible beaches to go to (I mean at least that part was easy, I was after all on an island!), and I got ready for the day. The Air bnb was equipped with many beach supplies and I perused the various water activity options. But my body reminded me of my weariness and so I just grabbed the rusted easy-to-fold chair and called it day.
I piled the chair and my stuff, including a towel, a bottle of water, some snacks, and of course some books into a beach bag and got in the car. I decided to window shop the shoreline before choosing which section of beach to land on. Although I still had no idea what the day would bring, I did have some inclination to the surroundings I wanted to at least be in control of. After driving for about 15 minutes, I made a U-turn back to a place that seemed equally shaded and sunned with easy access and minimal lugging of beach stuff to a comfy place.
I flipped out my beach chair and just sat. And sat, and sat. I don’t have much recollection of the thoughts that I know were going in and out of my consciousness much like the gentle waves I gazed at in front of me going in and out from the shoreline.
Maybe there was a type of subconscious washing or cleansing going on that I didn’t know was happening. It was a conglomeration of feelings and thoughts of recovery, transition, fears, questions, mental weariness, uncertainty, and cautious anticipation. Mostly though I just felt lost.
Feeling lost during these big times of transition is hard because there’s just no roadmap. There’s not even a mental roadmap with a question or destination to google. What would I search for?? I didn’t know what I didn’t know. But I did know that I didn’t know. And that left me sighing to myself over and over again.
And then at some point the sighs became intentional breaths. And a sort of surrender or relenting to the moment came over me. And even with the unsettling feelings I was having, as my brain ruminated on all the uncertainty, my body started to relax as the oxygen from my intentional breathing spread throughout my chest and into my limbs.
What I also knew was that when I came across a book I had brought with me: “The Gift of Being Yourself: The Sacred Call to Self-Discovery”, I felt connected to the title. Something about reading the title encouraged me to breath more, to feel a tad safer leaning into this Unknown. My heart felt a unifying of my soul’s desires and my brain’s curiosity; I didn’t have to choose one part of myself over the other. My brain even said- “heck you can kill two birds with one stone in this book! Know yourself AND God—have at it! Oh and also points for it being a fairly short book of only 100 something pages!”
With a reluctant: “might as well”, I took the book out of the beige canvas shopping tote turned beach bag and decided to start reading.
As I started reading, it was like the feeling of being on airplane when it starts to take off. At that point in the trip I tend to feel my body relax after all the details and rushing around, and checking things off my list have been finished. And then once on the plane after take-off, all I have to do is just sit. And if I happen to by the window, then as the landscape gets smaller and smaller in view, so do my worries. There’s nothing I can do anyway if I forgot something. So I think that’s what was also happening as I was reading this book. My conscious pulled up and away from the stresses I had been feeling.
The irony was that as I was feeling lighter and more expansive, I was also starting to feel more grounded- more centered. Maybe like a bouquet of balloons whose dangling strings are then brought in together. Feelings of hope and purpose and trust started to float in. I would read the words and then look up at the beautiful scene of open peaceful sea. The inspiring words mixed with the inspiring scenery which together encouraged integration and meaning, started taking hold.
This unplanned, unstructured, extended and time-less time alone I think allowed first a processing and untangling of internal gunk to evolve and pass through me, creating new uplifting internal and spiritual stirrings, without distractions. Without the distractions of responsibilities.
Without external distractions, my brain didn’t have the justification in a tug of war between things vying for my attention to force me away from heart and soul’s desires and longings.
Distractions like mothering and certainly moving can do that a lot. And often the brain becomes even more justified, wining the tug of war, because those things with big responsibilities often also pull on heart strings. As even in the decision to go on this trip it was hard to pull away from my husband and kids.
But there on the beach, on the chair, with my book, and the vast blue-green vista in front of me, my brain relented and there was no tug of war for that time. There was only conversation at this point between my soul, my heart, and now God. And I realized then and there that in the title of this trip I called: “Me, Myself, and I”—that the “I” was God as in the Bible when Moses sees the burning bush, it answers: “I Am”…
It seemed the purpose of this trip was not just for me to recuperate, but so that God could have me alone- without distractions, without responsibilities- just me. With that clarity I felt supported in a way I hadn’t know before. It was a wave of encouragement that didn’t knock me down but instead immediately buttressed me with an unshakeable foundation of trust.
With this new enlightened discovery, the day at the beach now felt done. Like there was a hidden treasure that I had accidentally found and since I uncovered it, even if by happenstance, there was no reason to continue; the best of what could have happened that day, did. With my “task” complete, I sought out dinner and getting back to the Air bnb.
As I gathered up my things, I felt a certain satisfaction of having completed a task that I didn’t know I had even set out to do! My brain also felt a bit of gratification that the “guidelines” pretty much held up too. I hadn’t spent hours talking to friends and I hadn’t totally zoned out watching TV or scrolling on FB.
Indeed it’s as if the energy I had put into myself, actually stayed within me. So that when I got back to the Air bnb and the host invited me to hang out, this time I immediately said, “yes, that would be great!” My day at the beach and pushing through the yuck and discomfort somehow allowed in space for socializing again- and for a good night’s sleep!
The next morning I didn’t want to leave! And instead of my brain lamenting on why the trip was ridiculous, I was trying to figure out how to lengthen the trip as much as possible! One way was to get to the beach as soon as possible. I wanted to get back to doing nothing again! This time the experience felt familiar and welcoming and I couldn’t wait to plant myself in the sand. I was also excited to get back to my book encouraging this internal spiritual conversation.
About an hour into this new found enlightened settling, I was reading something that immediately made me feel God’s presence. It was a deep feeling of hope and optimism. I felt my phone buzz. I looked at a text that my brother had written. “I hope your re-homing is going well.”
Tears came to my eyes, and I gasped outloud, feeling the synchronicity of my brother texting, while I was reading the book, and while having a soul warmth come over me. I had told my brother I was going away for the weekend, but I hadn’t used the word “home” to describe my unspoken inner desire and calling at the time.
But indeed “home” was what I was looking for, and Home was what I found. Wow.
And “all” it took was me saying “yes” to myself, being open to checking out the possibilities, pushing through the hard of leaving my family, and allowing the discomfort of being alone without anything scheduled.