Sunsets. Bellingham - like all places - has them, and since my arrival I have been graced with many that bordered on re-defining beautiful. There is one though, perhaps a month back, that gave me greater notice than all others. It was as though the sky and the bay waters aligned, grasping the day's wane as close to their chests as possible in the hopes of postponing the inevitable twilight; the way a person approaching the end of the best day of their life struggles to avoid midnight.The result was the changing of bay waters to shimmering purples, pinks and blues so rich I saw dragon scales. And if the waters were dragons, the red ranging sky was their fire. Shadows of darkest blue rippled through the waters, swimming and swirling themselves into such magnificent patterns, my breath almost forgot itself.
That night, long after the sunset had fallen to night's forceful power and I myself had fallen into dreams, I woke. It was pre-dawn. The sky and water were a dark black ink. Had the weather or hour been different, this particular waking might have fled permanent memory. But the it was almost as though the universe had itself whispered for me to wake, because the air was clear and the full moon the only thing reigning. I saw it, right before me, bright and shimmering like a pearl that had just been dipped in gold. It's magnificent light poured out into the water, turning the soft waves into stories of deepest mystery. My breath forgot itself again, and when it returned that was when I realized - I am healing.
~*~
I shut down in Utah. I didn't realize it at the time of course. I knew I wasn't super happy, but I got to work everyday, laughed with my coworkers, had fun with Steph when our schedules allowed for it, and read a lot of incredible books. I knew from therapy that I had some minor depression, and greater than minor but not massive anxiety, but I'd had that in Maine as well (a place I achingly love) so I didn't connect those emotions with my geographical location. Now I know better.
I may have functioned like a semi-responsible adult, but I had no thirst for adventure and spontaneity was a stranger to my world. Any attempt I made to pull myself out of melancholy evaporated quicker than a desert's morning dew. When I left Maine, I wanted a place out west with mountains, and there is no denying that Utah met both those requirements. But I learned the hard way that they were not enough; I also need a place that doesn't confine thoughts to a boxed set of rules; I need a place that is wild.
~*~
I've said it before and will again - I don't regret moving to Utah. Nor am I saying that now I've moved my life is perfect. Far, far from it. I still have anxiety. I'm still living with an eating disordered voice in my head. I didn't land my dream job, nor is my current living situation ideal (though the view is hard to beat). The city I'm in isn't flawless, nor do I envision myself ever finding it so. I could go on but I think I've made my point.
What I am saying, is I'm back in a place which provides me freedom to think in magic, and that, combined with what I've learned about myself by moving here has shifted the balance of my spirit. It is no longer shrinking, but blooming, dissolving the deep wounds it's suffered these past years. I'm better able to breath in joy and jump at possibility of adventure. I've still a long way to go to get back to myself, but I'm headed in the right direction and it is a wondrous path to be on!
~*~*~
