Uprooting, Again: Moving to Okinawa, Japan

Life changes in a second. I can't tell you how many times I've heard that... how many times I've said that... and how many times I've truly believed that. It's funny because every time life takes another hairpin turn, it's like I forget this common knowledge and learn it all over again. It moves so quickly, from breath to breath, season to season, sunrise to sunset, birth to death... it's all a relative blink of an eye.

So here we are. Josh and I are coming up on our first anniversary. I'm teaching at the Yoga Connection here in Goldsboro. The dogs are good; healthy, happy, mischievous. I've been decorating and our house is turning into a place I love to be. We have our routine and the squeaky wheels are being oiled. The seasons are changing; leaves are turning, changing, falling. Air Force life is becoming normal. I know the hours of the commissary and I know the rules. I've figured out where everything is on base and I can even navigate my way through housing. I guess you could say I'm some form of comfortable.

I began registering for my 500 hour Teacher Training and started making other plans which required me to stay put. I didn't have an escape plan. A friend's wedding coming up and Josh and I were both asked to be a part of it. Superficial as they may have been, small roots were beginning to grow and I was feeling grounded. Goldsboro, NC isn't my ideal place. If I had to choose, this wouldn't be it. But you blossom where you're planted.

Josh called me one morning from work. I was still in bed and only vaguely registered the ring. After calling several times, I finally answered.

“Orders,” he said.

“What? Who? Where?” I asked, confused.

“We got orders! To Japan!” His excitement was overwhelming first thing in the morning.

I sat straight up in bed and tried to comprehend what he was saying.

“When? For how long? Me too? When are we leaving? What? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, we're going to Kadena. Report no later is in February.”

I immediately got off the phone and called my Mom. The rest of the day, and every day since, I have spent Googling and learning and reading and trying to make sense of the fact that in three short months, I'll be living on an island, 340 miles south of mainland Japan in the East China Sea.

In one second. One. That's it. A second. Blink and it's gone. That's all it takes. A second. I don't even know when that second occurred. At some point some arbitrary program matched a job opening in Japan with Josh's current position and rank and the second passed while I continued to plan to stay here. Then there's the second I remember, the one where I wasn't sure if I was dreaming or awake.

So now there are piles of paperwork on my dining room table. Lists upon lists are taking up every piece of scrap paper. Vet bills to get the dogs ready to travel into Japan are piling up. Reservations need to be made, but deposits are non-refundable and dates are not concrete. Overseas clearance. Weigh restrictions. Have I legally changed my last name yet? Can we bring my Ninja blender? What's the time difference? How will the dogs handle such a long flight? Where will they stay? No pet-friendly rooms available. Quarantine periods. Being told over and over that Josh needs to call because I'm only the dependent.

Just one second.

The military is a 'hurry-up and wait' organization. There are these little windows of time where a lot of things have to fall into the precise places and then there are these big windows of time where you're told you'll find out more information when a different window opens. For a girl whose life can turn from chaos to complete organization with the use of a couple paper clips, this frustrates me to no end. Moreover, the fact that I can't actually do anything or find out any information because I'm not the one who is active-duty drives me to drink copious amounts of chocolate milk (neither good for my waist nor my lactose intolerance). Josh is confident. He's fine. He's comfortable. The idea of picking up and moving across the globe is more exciting than stressful. How is he so collected? I'm not sure. Maybe I should start playing video games.

There are these moments where I realize what's happening and I become overwhelmingly excited. Here it is... exactly what I've always wanted. There isn't a bone in my body that doesn't ache for the excitement of travel. This world is so big and, thankfully, I'm small enough to travel it all in a relatively compact way. Let's be serious, an elephant has little possibility of easily traveling to the other side of the world. Japan is a culture of oxymorons. The forefront of technology but rooted in traditions. You can be rear-ended and still end up responsible for the accident. All you can drink bar options (nomihōdai) with expectations of not going over board. I'm excited, of course. But I am also terrified. Moving is something I am getting pretty good at and living in a different country has been a goal my entire life. I just wish that life here in the States with my family and friends could stop for a while. I am going to miss so much while experiencing so much. I've been having nightmares of being stuck in a waterspout. Just turning and turning and almost getting out before being sucked right back in. And no one around me will help or even seems to care that I'm stuck in this never ending rotation. I know that sometimes being out of control is the best way to gain control. I know that everything will work out. I know so many things and yet, here I am, believing all the things I know aren't true.

Either way, we're going. This is all just a temporary thing. All the paperwork will get done and the dogs will get there just fine, and the no-good-very-bad plane rides will all be over and living in a hotel for a month will end and we'll finally get our furniture shipped over and my first Japanese sunburn won't be too long after landing and I will eat so much sushi every pregnant lady on the island will be jealous.

Okinawa, here we come. Ready or not.

I have no idea where on island this is. 

Hoshizuna Beach

Ikei Beach

A plan to not have a plan.

I have made a decision.

I'm following my bliss.

For the rest of my life I want to make all my decisions from a place of love and passion. Clearly, writing a rent check and going to the grocery store isn't out of deep desire to live in a capitalist society; rather, it will be because I love myself enough to provide myself a home and feed myself fresh, healthy foods.

I'm making time for the things I love.
No schedule.
No plan.
No rules.
Just love.
I spend a lot of time daydreaming of the life I want. I have a list and I'll tell you a secret: there are quite a few parts of my life currently that are NOT on that list.

So what does that mean? Should I throw away my spoons and get rid of my car? Maybe. But probably not. What that means to me is I make a point to spend less time focusing on the spoons in my life and more time focusing on the things that bring me home. More time on my mat, writing, drinking tea, cuddling with my dogs, kissing my husband, laughing, skyping with my best-friends, drinking wine, eating chocolate, gardening, mediating, manifesting, swimming, hiking, listening to music, planning exotic vacations, volunteering, going to concerts... and living every day with intention. Fully attending to every part of my life. Feeling and experiencing all of it. Because when I am sitting in front of my computer scrolling through social media sites for hours on end, I'm not paying attention to my dogs cuddling on the couch next to me, or the smell of the candle burning in the window sill being carried by the light, springtime breeze. I have a feeling if I get the whole “life flashes before my eyes” thing before I die (and I hope I do!) I won't want to see myself watching marathons of Keeping up with the Kardashians*.

I know what you're thinking (well, I know what I'm thinking) and you're right. Everyone says that. Everyone says that they want to spend less time doing the things they don't love and more time doing the things they do love. Everyone makes that decision (who/where is this everyone we always talk about anyway..). If it was so easy, people would stop saying it and start doing it.

So I gave myself a break. I've decided that my journey towards the life I want doesn't have to look like everyone else's. On April 1^st I committed to coming to my mat every single day- even if it was just to sit there and look at my feet. That's it.. just coming to my mat without any agenda, judgement, plan or stress. Twenty-seven days later and I have kept my promise to myself. I come to my mat every day. Sometimes I practice for a long time. And sometimes I just sit there. Sometimes I meditate and sometimes I don't. What I've learned over these past 27 days is my mat isn't a magic carpet (though, sometimes it feels like it is.. but that's a discussion for another time). My beautiful sage green mat doesn't make me a better person. My headstand is what it is; good or bad, it is a reflection of my time spent practicing. Training my muscles and my brain to flip upside down and hold myself there. The pose isn't a reflection of the mat itself. What I have learned is what my mat means to me. It is a symbol of what I want my life to be and what type of person I want to be. Coming to my mat every day, reading, reflecting, practicing, meditating, and sometimes just hanging out requires me to take notice of where my life is going and determine if that direction is in line with what I truly want it to be.

And it's not just my mat.

Wearing my shirt with the word LOVE block printed across my chest reminds me that only love is real. So I wear it a lot.

Looking at my ganesha statue reminds me that sometimes the obstacle is also the solution.

Taking a moment every day to drink a cup of tea allows me to slow down.

Growing herbs in my kitchen connects me to Mother Earth.

Because, maybe being surround by “stuff” is OK as long as that “stuff” brings you back to a place of wellbeing. A place of balance, in tune with the higher purpose of your life. Of course I realize I don't need my mat, my shirt, my statue, my herbs. But they remind me, so I will keep them around. These daily reminders are expanding. The ivy on my porch reminds me it's ok to reach for, seemingly, nothing because eventually you will find something. The stack of books I haven't read remind me that it's time to put down my computer and fall into a different dimension.

Sometimes, following my bliss looks like work. I know I need to take time to simplify my life. I need to go through my piles of clothes and get rid of what I don't wear or doesn't fit. I need to go through and donate some of the many books I no longer have need for. There's a lot of “stuff” cluttering my life that doesn't remind me of my passion. So that's my next step. I've been coming to my mat daily, and my mat has been coming with me when I step off of it. I didn't know what my next step was when I took the first step, but I trusted that I would figure it out along the way. And I did. Just now. While sitting on the couch with my dogs, drinking a cup of tea, writing on my laptop listening to the birds, I figured it out.

Sometimes following your bliss is a lot easier than everyone says it is.

*No offense to the Kardashian family--- I'm sure they're great. It was just the first reality show that came to mind. 

Today is a Sad Day. And that's OK.

Social media is an interesting animal. We all want something out of it, whether it is followers, or likes, or comments, or tags, or sympathy, or tweets, or clicks (that's a thing, right?) or whatever other type of recognition that may or may not lead to the possibility of being insta-famous and making millions just by being an idea of yourself on the Internet. It's a weird thing when it's broken down, but it's not something I'm opposed to and it's not something I'm here to pick apart by any means. I do often think about what is being put out into the social media ether and what the intentions are behind the posts and updates. Should we be an idealized version of ourselves? It is OK to post every event in the day, letting everyone know where we are, what we're doing and who we're with? Is it a platform for politics, or religion, or raising social consciousness? Or do only Caturday meme's and hilarious twerk fail videos belong on Facebook and Instagram? I think the best answer is probably pretty personal for each of us. I try to keep my social media interactions relatively light to deter any sort of Facebattle back and forth instigated by anything I post. I tend to post about things I love, things I truly believe in and things that inspire me. However, I am definitely not the most genuine version of myself on social media because I am not my Facebook and I am not my Instagram profile. I'm flesh and I'm blood and there is a lot more to me than yoga pictures, my dogs, vegetables, giraffes and Josh (wait... is there really???). If I'm mad, I generally don't post. If I'm sad, I generally don't post. If I'm binging on ice cream and watching hours of Pit bulls and Parolees- well, I might post- but it's not typical.

I thought about being my authentic self today- open, sensitive, raw and exposed- and I thought that being more vulnerable on social media might be a good learning experience. So today I'll share a more genuine real-time version of myself than dog cuddles and cups of tea. Actually, I am cuddling dogs and a cup of tea is in my near future, but I'm also crying. Ugly face crying. Fat tears rolling down my cheeks, runny nose, hiccups, the whole nine yards.

Tonight is a sad night. Not for any particular reason just because I am sad. Some days are happy and some days are sad and today is sad. I'm not feeling particularly great physically which, if you ask me, is a manifestation of how I am feeling emotionally, although some may say it's part of the reason why I'm not feeling emotionally well. Ultimately it doesn't matter which came first, the chicken or the egg, just that both existed and they each deserve to be recognized as a vital part of the biological process required for the chicken species to continue to exist. That's how I feel about this sadness and this neck pain. They are both required in order for me to feel the way I am feeling-- which isn't great-- and it doesn't matter which caused which just that the sadness is here and it's going to be here until it isn't. And when it isn't, I won't miss it. And that's good, because it'll be back at some point.

My neck hurts. It feels like all the muscles in my neck have grown too short and are pulling and shortening all the muscles they attach too, which are pulling on all my bones, which are knocking into one another every time I move any part of my body. My jaw hurts from the dental work I had done on Wednesday. I've been up with a nose bleed since 4 o'clock this morning. I miss my younger brother so much tonight it takes my breath away. My father is going through a rough time and I don't know how to help him. In fact, I feel like I am failing him. I'm lonely in New Orleans. It's a very big place and right now I feel like a very small person. I miss Josh in a way that has only been comparable to the way I miss the ocean, except it's not comparable because it's incomparable and incomprehensible. My dogs have been experiencing what can only be described as bouts of explosive diarrhea coupled with projectile vomiting off-and-on since we moved here in January. I haven't had so many migraine episodes since before I had a stroke 6 years ago. And I'm tired. Sleep hasn't been coming so easily and, that which I am getting, isn't restful. Mostly, I'm sad. And I've been sad for a couple of weeks. Not all the time. There is lots of beauty and happiness in my life every single day. There is a lot to be thankful for and I realize I am very fortunate. And I know that fixing every item on the list of "bads" isn't what is going to make me happy.

Listening to my heart is what will make me happy. Following my bliss. Taking risks. Jumping even when I can't see the bottom. Trusting in my intuition. Being honest. Laughing. Sharing. Talking. Drinking wine. Eating. Dancing. Praying. Singing. Connecting. Helping. Touching. Loving. This is what makes me happy. And yes, yoga, dogs and tea also make me very, very happy. I know all of this, and still, right now, I am sad.

And soon, this will be over. Soon this part of my life will be a distant memory. Soon I'll be able to look back on that time when I first moved to New Orleans and everything was difficult. And nothing fell into place the way I wanted it to. That time I felt broken. That time I cried a lot. Soon, I'll look back and be thankful for these tears. Because I have a heart that breaks and that's a beautiful gift. I have a family to miss, and that's a beautiful gift. I know what it's like to feel healthy and that's a beautiful gift. And because of these big fat tears. Because of this pillow case covered in big fat tears. Because of this dog that weighs all of 12 pounds who lets me squeeze him with all my might. Because of this big, red dog who never licks anyone but turns to me and licks the tears off my hand. Because of my younger brother who just text messaged me and told me he loved me. Because of all these things and many, many more I'm thankful for these moments of overwhelming sadness. Because without them, the happiness just isn't as sweet.