Or perhaps it is. Goals are sandy these days.
A year ago this week, I made a gigantic change and moved across the country to New York City. Brooklyn to be exact. The exact opposite of my ten-year, Southern California existence.
It's strange to feel unsettled for as long as I've felt unsettled. Somehow it becomes normal and your brain starts to only concentrate on what will get you through the day. The future is shifty and so you don't deal with it until it's upon you.
I moved to New York City, put my belongings in a dusty sublet, and went on the road for 8 months.
Unsettled.
It's taken a full year for this giant change to turn completely in the lock. Having your hand on the door knob means you're only partway there, and so I've stood with hand poised all this time. Now is the moment that I want to fully step through the door.
A few truths:
- I'm moving into an apartment tomorrow that will have my name on the lease. This implies, if not full ownership, then the opportunity to feel that my possessions have a home in which I am fully in charge.
- I am leaving for another 6 weeks in 15 days. In a sad admission, this is one of my shorter trips this year.
- I'm leaving a partner and a pet in my new apartment. Roots. I'm leaving roots. Small, somewhat shallow, relatively unformed roots, but they are solidly in the soil. I would have to yank swiftly and forcefully to pull them up.
- This is the first year that I can truthfully call myself an opera director. I have three directing gigs in the next five months.
- I miss dancing in a way that I never thought possible. This morning, after my breakfast, I stood up in my dusty sublet and danced my way through some music and felt so alive and strong...and then so weak and scared. Part of my full transformation must include coming back to where I started.
- This blog post is a maintenance post. It is a test for myself to see if writing can be part of my experience once more. I stopped writing a while ago and my creativity drained away as well.
