549. Now what?

Last night I had a dream in which I met two women who immigrated from Kenya over twenty years ago. I asked them if they regretted leaving their homeland. They looked at each other wistfully and said that they had mixed feelings. They love having the opportunities that only America could offer, but they deeply missed their home, friends, and families. If they could do it over again, they would stay home.

In light of what I've been going through lately, I'm not sure how I should interpret my dream. (Stupid dream!)

I felt a feeling I never felt before when I visited Louisville: It felt like "home." (Homeland?) I wrote this to one of my closest friends in an email last week:

I've been out of it since I got back from Kentucky. The trip reinforced my impulse to move away. This past year, since moving out on my own, I've felt torn: stay, dive into the business, into my community and spiritual practice more fully; or leave. The leaving fantasy is seductive. I imagine having a more simple life: working a regular job, perhaps taking writing classes, meditating, living without a car . . . having a family. Attend PTA meetings.

Crazy, eh?

I've always been somewhat of a cliff diver, charging completely into the unknown, trusting that things will work out, and enjoying the thrill of the drama involved. This is another reason why Kentucky is so alluring--I'd have the drama of moving, finding a job, building a new network, etc. (Plus I really did have a feeling of "home" there. But that's another story.) G offered the most astounding insight. She said, "Perhaps the cliff you need to jump off of is the one of staying."

Talk about scary.

...my fantasy about leaving is somewhat incomplete: how could I possibly pack up all of the wonderful people I know and love and bring them with me?

Do you like Kentucky?

And maybe I will eventually move to Kentucky, but I want to see how this chapter in my life unfolds.

And his response, bless his heart:

Would love the opportunity to go further into this fleeing thing [when we see each other this weekend], if you'd like. I love the part about a "more simple life" with all these activities: "working a regular job, perhaps taking writing classes, meditating, living without a car." Then, "...and having a family. Attend PTA meetings."

Like that's a "simple" life? Oh my god, Becky! There is nothing simple in any of that.

It's funny how I have a lot of the same feelings of wanting to flee. What's up with that? I felt that way in Sacramento, in Monterey, and sometimes here. Then I ask myself, "Go where, and do what?" And would that actually be "better" than what's going on here and now?

And how long before I'd want to flee that? Crazy shit we put ourselves through isn't it? I do think G made an interesting statement. Wouldn't that be a challenge? It's one idea I like because then I could be involved and grow with you. I don't know if Kentucky would be for me, and D won't leave here...not now anyway.

I hate it when my friends are right. Ugh. Life is tough at 35. Please tell me it gets easier. In the mean time, I'm going to appreciate wonderful things like friends, gravity, chocolate, bees, books, meditation, my car, R, air, my work, my blog, and my blog readers.

Am I going through a midlife crisis? I'd ask my therapist, but I hate it when she's right, too.