Generally, I try to make a point
of not starting posts with lengthy explanations about just where the fuck I’ve
been. I suppose this time is a little
different because it’s relevant beyond just curiosity. As I mentioned in one of my very long posts,
there is no part of me that runs towards change. I don’t necessarily run from change either. I tend
to just dig my heels in, fight it, and shelter in place. Much like the idiot who refuses to sell to
the city in cases of eminent domain.
Sure, you might win your case but you live in a highway median now. Grit serves us well, belligerence shoots us
in the foot.
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| One of my favorite Barbie photos ever. |
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| Remember how I was giving up carbs... |
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| The sunrise on the vernal equinox was absolutely unreal. It had been weeks since we'd had anything other than grey skies and it broke for about 15 minutes to reveal this otherworldly show. |
So you can imagine my shock when I
started feeling the urge of change before it started calling me. While I started my business amid personal
chaos, personal chaos does get sorted out with a steady hand and a
corkscrew. Things that used to make your
blood boil now barely merit an eye roll and there is comfort in the
minutiae. Though it can be murky
realizing that not feeling plagued doesn’t exactly mean you’re thriving. Recovery of any kind--addiction,
heartache, financial exhaustion, grief—must be taken one day at a time to reach
success. But how long? The only people with a RECOVERED stamp to
press to paper are the IRS. There is no
clinical assessment of how healed a broken heart may or may not be. So at some point, it’s up to you. No surprise as a well-cushioned Taurus, I
moved a little slow. Somewhere in the
last year, the propellers began to rotate here and there. Kicking up mire and that sat previously
undisturbed. And in these cycles of
clouding and clearing, I made more room.
More room for options, permissions, and allowances. Forgiving people in earnest, not based in
declaration or pomp. Apologizing to
others in sincerity, not hinging on manipulation or motive. If I could term this time, it would be that
everything was placed under review. The
mental equivalent of Janet’s favorite hobby: removing everything from your
house, cleaning it, and scrutinizing each piece as it comes back in or is
officially divorced from your life. I
learned things like I need a lot more white shorts and a lot fewer celebrity
memoirs. Not exactly enlightenment but I’m
on the road.
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| Pileated Woodpecker |
This is challenging because you
come face to face with the unrealized pieces of past and current dreams. It’s confrontational and dusty, both mentally
and physically. Hopefully through this,
your gaze is widened. And where you
lived in the myopic cycle of surviving the recovery, you can reset the course
from decisions and plans you made while treading water. The hardest part is accepting that failures
along the way do not need to be final, they are allowed to just be knots in the
wood.
I came into the new year with a
sense of restlessness and unease. I
needed to think. And since I’m slow it
took a while. Like, I feel like for
about five months my free time was spent with a vacant stare and radio silence. Maybe I just got fat enough that I was in
hibernation and didn’t know. Regardless, it was good. While my mind at work is a one way tunnel, my
mind at rest is more like a summer treeline at dusk. Between the squirrels boning, birds chirping,
and lightning bugs twinkling, it’s hard to focus. But as everything in my head boiled, steamed,
and distilled, I began to get a vision for a new direction. Or another
direction, I suppose.
So first things first, I am still going to do
hair and have my salon. I still love
doing hair, I love my clients, and I think they love me. In addition to hair,
I’m moving into real estate. I’ve always
thought about real estate, as it’s a natural fit with my talents (if we can
call them that) and interests. God knows
I have an eye for detail and can work a list.
But it wasn’t until I braided in a Hilton Head connection that it made perfect sense. As many of you have sensed, a part of me
belongs down here. Yet, not all of
me. If rain and wind-whipped October
days amid the decadence of decay were no longer a part of my life, I don’t think
any amount of dappled golden light dripping in through Spanish Moss could
spackle the hole left in the absence of deciduous magic. If you’re familiar with HHI, you know that it
really could be OHHIO as the amount of Ohioans there practically makes it the
Midwest. So my working plan is to provide
kind of concierge service, connecting with people in Ohio and then also working
with them down in South Carolina. I’m
currently working on my Ohio license and will then also become licensed in
South Carolina.
I wanna live two places. Can you do that? Have you done that? This is where having a blog comes soo in handy. So many of you are smart and experienced and
willing to share. Please share your
thoughts about living two places at once.
Have you done it? How’d it go? Was it for work or pleasure? Have you
owned a vacation rental? Horror stories?
Tell me, tell me, tell me. If you are or
hear of someone interested in Lowcountry real estate, thiiiiink of me. My cell is 614-314-8099. Put me in your phone
just in case! It’s written on most mens bathroom walls anyway. It’s 2017 and we
all know privacy is dead. Speaking of
which, you may throw rocks at me and call me a hypocrite. I am now on Instagram in official capacity. Follow me! Or don’t, it’s
fine. I probably will actually post a
photo of myself there though so if you’d like to grab a seat for the horror, it’ll
be there.
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| Gorgeous Red Headed Woodpecker |
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| An Indigo Bunting! I hadn't ever seen one before. |
So the plan at this point in time,
is to buy a place down there as kind of an office, place to stay, place for
Barbie, and maybe I’ll offset the expense by renting it in season. I need to get my fucks in a row before I do
that, but I’m hoping sooner than later. I’m
sorry to say this will all happen more slowly than rapidly. It’s not really my nature to share things
like this as they unfold, but I suppose sometimes we cannot be omniscient
narrators in our own lives. So rather
than my usual practice of sitting here and updating you on the other side of
whatever the focus of the story may be, I’m going to trepidatiously share a bit
more in real time. As Mr. Gorbachev and
I tear down this wall, I’m wearing a little bit more vulnerability. Which,
admittedly, makes my skin crawl. But
it’s good. I’ve ended up opening myself
to other phenomena of the natural
world as well. After all, change does
have a ripple effect...
I’m sorry for the long silence and
truly touched that some of you really missed me. Thank you.
