I drove the Pike in a spontaneous response to an invitation that I had not thought I could fulfill but, because the day was so gorgeous, I wanted to feel every last minute of it so I ventured forth. As time was tight I chose the fastest route and as I zoomed to match the speed of fellow travelers on the interstate, I turned on the radio and felt the power of rock ‘n roll reinforcing the spirit of the afternoon. It had been a long time. The toll booth man witnessed yet another crazy, her head bouncing to music, headed to the highway.
In the hour’s drive I felt the rightness of this geography, how I simply loved the light, the trees, what this land feels like, and how my psyche feels (expansive and grateful) being here. I do not claim anything but residence. My ancestors did not occupy this land yet it feels right anyway and the natives seem tolerant.
I’ve seen this happen in other places to other people. A connection is made on a vacation, or via a workplace transfer, or whatever wildly creative reasons that urge geographical movement. In this new place we feel more like ourselves breathing more deeply, our psyche expands, we begin to sense possibilities. Something shifts.
For all the rightness of moves motivated by longing, this is not to suggest it is an easy path to completion. There is taxing physical effort, both leaving where we are and getting to where we will be. There is pain of separation from the known and, especially, the pain of separation from friends, family, colleagues. Never underestimate this pain and its frequent sidekick, loneliness, and the long path to making new connections. But this caution is not meant to deter.
There is no substitution for rightness which finds you. Somehow.