Adventures in Starting Fresh Somewhere Old (and making up words)

And at the very moment I really believed that I had found a way, it all came crashing down. Big time.

The truth that I had felt, but for which there had been no words, came out. There was no more denying or trying or hoping to be had. That was it and it was time for me to right about-face and change my journey, mid-step.

So here I am, again. When I left I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t be here again for quite a bit longer than it actually was. I was even more certain that when I did return, it would not be for this long. The thing is, it doesn’t feel bad or wrong. In fact, it actually feels good.

What I get to do is rediscover this lovely little town with a whole new perspective. Because the truth is, that is actually what is happening.

I am living here as though it is a brand new place with the added bonus of already having a really good support system and community.

But I’m starting over freshy fresh!

It wasn’t that I swore to myself that I’d never come back or that I never wanted to. I like it here. I didn’t need to convince myself that if I actually did come back that it would have to be different.

Because this town isn’t different, I am.

A part of me was quite afraid (for a bit) of coming back and falling into the same life and world that I was in when I was here before. That I would so easily slip back into familiar comfortability.

But I’m noticing this interesting thing happening with me here this time, I have easily slipped into comfortability with the unknown. I have fallen right in line with faith in uncertainty. I am walking this completely unknown daily path with grace and purpose.

And it feels pretty dang fantastic.

There are some factors here that make it much more possible for me to be in this state. A huge one being that I have a place that I can be that is comfortable, safe and supportive both physically and emotionally.

I am aware that this says that my current good nature is somewhat conditional. But I refuse to believe that the situation I left was anything less than utterly taxing upon every single fiber of my being. And I really just needed to leave.

In fact, as soon as I arrived to my first destination after my departure, I knew and honored that fact completely.

In no way do I want to make this about the people that I was with before I left. They are all amazing, loving, supportive, fantastic people with whom I had the lovely honor of getting to reconnect with after years and whom without, I have no idea what I would have done (seriously) (no……seriously).

This wasn’t a situation that was difficult because of people. It was everything else, including myself.

I know that wherever I go, there I am. I never expect a place to make me behave differently. And maybe that’s part of what happened to me there, the place seemed to make me behave differently and I most certainly did not expect that. I really didn’t feel myself. I didn’t feel capable of being myself at my highest, most loving capacity or even a fraction of that. I felt a shell of myself. A crawling, whimpering, trembling and faceless exterior of Carrie.

I did my best, my Carrie best, to make the most of this situation I was in. Dwelling within this despairing state, I did a damn fine job of it. But it wasn’t enough. It. just. wasn’t.

I was given permission to entertain the idea of leaving and my world completely changed. Night and day. I actually had a glimmer of hope. I felt that spark that felt like me, attempt to ignite itself once again.

Less than two weeks later, I was on the road.

And the road is such a lovely place my friends. I do quite feel at home there. But that is another story (or three) for another time.

Two and a half weeks (and 300-plus miles of being towed) later, I rolled back into town.

It felt weird. It felt oddly good. It felt right. It felt…beautiful!

I’m not quite sure I’ve ever relished so much in the grey, mundane shiver of this place like I have since I’ve arrived eight days ago.

I am fortunate enough to have a stunning and relatively panoramic view of the Canadian Rockies from Vandalf’s location at the moment, and when that morning sun hits those crevices and illuminates them through shadows over the snowy peaks, I am humbled in complete awe.

The stark contrast between the wintery mossy greens and penetrating grey sky is almost a visual over load for me.

As I said, it hasn’t really changed here. It’s been like this as long as I can remember. But I have changed.

I am not the same Carrie I was when I left. I am new and improved along with being that much more of who I really am.

Even though I was born and mostly raised here, it feels like a whole new place. I feel like an outsider coming in with the grandest of welcomes and warmest (and soggiest) of hugs.

The ebb and flow that is life will take me somewhere else at some point and I look forward to that whenever it comes about. (The next tour is already being planned!)

This town is not exactly home anymore but it’s home for now and I’m all right with that. I am all right with whatever this experience has to offer me and I am genuinely excited to to be so free as to meet this town for the first time ever with these eyes and this heart.





3 responses to “Adventures in Starting Fresh Somewhere Old (and making up words)

    • Thanks! I like that, the unknown can be our best friend. I always aim for a good relationship with my best friend!

  1. Pingback: Contemplating What Ifs? | the corvid drifter·

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