Transitions & The Strange and Painful Act of Moving on.

*A retrospective.

 

Dear readers, I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you … or rather, I haven’t said anything at all — and have just been hiding out at home. I wrote this piece a few months ago, just after moving back home just as it hit me, and I realized what I had done. Finding myself a little bit drunk and crying on the floor of my room at my Dad’s house in my old prom dress, in the process. (Yes, seriously).. I was devastated at the decision I had made to leave San Francisco, not really because I wanted to — but because I thought I had to. Although I know now that I made a decision on my own, and that I could have stopped it all … it was bittersweet, and now I look back and wonder why I did it. Why didn’t I just stay, and make it all work out? Alas, rustling through some of my old notebooks, I find my reasons once again in a little piece called Transitions.

 Maeve atop my mini library at my beautiful Haight Street apartment, San Francisco 2017

Maeve atop my mini library at my beautiful Haight Street apartment, San Francisco 2017

Transitions start with a decision. A general confrontation of things regarding who you are; where you are and where you want to be. It is the acknowledgment that what you’re doing is no longer working & that you just don’t think it’s going to work for you anymore.

 

Transitions, for me, start creeping up on me when things get too … comfortable. Which for some, feels great, but for me, can feel awfully suspicious.

Why is that, I wonder? Is it too good to be true? Do I feel like I’m getting stuck in one place or something? After some observation, I’ve decided that they happen because sometimes, the life that you don’t want is easier to find then the life that you do… One decision can lead to another and BAM, you're somewhere where you'd never thought you'd be. Picture me there, again now.

These past few weeks I have felt like a meteor coming out of space and approaching the real world at a rapid pace. Catching fire and beaming through the atmosphere as I quit my beloved job, left my beautiful apartment in the city and said goodbye to years worth of wonderful friendships. Suddenly & finally making my crash landing back down to Earth.

My ears ringing at first as I realize that I am here, at last, at home, and that I am present with myself. No longer wishing, or dreaming that I could be here — away from it all — but actually free to do what I want. (Which is an honor, and a privilege really).

Again, I ask myself what I am doing here, and what I have done? Why have I given up years of hard work, only to turn back the clock and find myself HERE, again? Through presence and focus, I remind myself just why I’m here:

  • I left that life, where I gave soooo much of myself to others, so that may find more of myself.
  • I left because I wasn’t happy with where I was in my life, personally.
  • I left my comfortable life because I knew that I could challenge myself do better, and follow my heart, as I always do.
  • I left because I want to know more of me, and redefine my future, in ways that some before me may have not been able to do for themselves. 
  • I left because I want to do more for myself, so that I may do more for others. 

In August 2017, I left my beloved life in San Francisco to focus less on the things that made me so lost in the first place, like money, status, partying & my image to find more of myself in the present. To practice passion and explore my art, writing, and creativity, and run wild, and play in the mountains like I had growing up. So that I can better decide what it is that's really important to me, in my life, moving forward.

 Vintage Sam — Taken behind my little house in the golden hills of California — 1997

Vintage Sam — Taken behind my little house in the golden hills of California — 1997

I left so that I can remember who I am, be me, and continue to work on who I want to be.

I am starting over again, for me.