Metacentricities

The song by Sophie Hawkins, called “California Here I Come” is playing right now. Not quite by coincidence, it came to mind as I thought of writing this post, so I put it on. But it is one of my favorite songs, no matter where I’m headed.

Short story: I’m moving back to the West Coast, specifically back to the Bay Area, sometime between early October and early November. This time, I expect it will be pretty much for good. One never knows, of course, but that’s how it feels at the moment. Feel free to say something snide if it doesn’t turn out that way.

Longer story: It is partially, of course, to be closer to Ruth, who lives in Oakland now. But in this 5 or so month process that I have been through since Ruth decided to go back to California, I have come to realize that there is a lot for me in the Bay Area, and there seems to be a way that I need to grow that will be facilitated by being there.

What do I mean? New England has been a wonderful place to live. It still does (and I imagine will always) feel a lot like home. It is cozy and comfortable (except in winter!) A lot of dear friends live here. It’s small and handle-able. But in many ways, it’s isolated. It’s far away from my work contacts, far away from potential clients, and there aren’t the kinds of dynamic communities that I got to be a little bit a part of when I lived in Berkeley in 2005-6.

My field of work, nonprofit technology, which feels much more chosen rather than accidental now that I got to take a break to go to seminary, could almost be said to be centered in the Bay Area. There are communities of faith that I can be a part of that only exist there (like City of Refuge, Choctmat Halev, and New Spirit Community Church to name just a few.) I mean, where else can you find meditation groups with queer people of color? Or how about butch yoga?

I also came to an interesting realization. Having spent most of my life living in settings that are largely white, I feel like I haven’t really gotten to fully live out the complexity of my identity. With my move to Oakland, I get to live and move among a lot of other African Americans, who have chosen all sorts of life paths, many as complex and combined as my own (African-American/Lesbian/Geek/Buddhist/Christian/Science Fiction Writer - there may even be more of those than just me!) I got to experience a taste of that when I lived there, but I feel like it will be great to really get to immerse myself in that experience.

What’s great is that I have a network there already, between work and my old seminary friends, as well as a few other folks I’ve known who’ve moved there over the years. I’m excited about the move. And, of course, there is a lot to do (oh, like hopefully sell a house) and such before hand, which is not fun. But I’m just taking it one step at a time.

It’s almost done. 99% of our stuff has been moved from Shutesbury to Shelburne Falls. We need to take one last trip out there to gather up the remaining odds and ends that we missed yesterday. It rained all day yesterday, which wasn’t at all fun, and we’re in a house full of boxes. And I can’t find anything. And we’re both exhausted, and pretty much out of steam. Now, what comes is the slow unpacking, settling in, making this house our new home. It feels good. We took a walk down to town this afternoon, and spent some time at Mocha Maya’s listening to a great band, called Jo Henley. It’s great to be so close to town, and getting out and doing stuff isn’t this big production - we can just go out the door and walk three blocks. Or, we can spend 15 minutes in the car instead of 25-30 to get to a “big town”. Greenfield, the closest, is a great place, and has just about everything we need.

By the way, the movers were amazing. We figured it was a classical Valley story that we hired movers called “Warrior Spirit Movers” who used biodiesel trucks, and the message on their voicemail ends in “namaste.” They were 3 sturdy, young guys who were nice to be around, were efficient, and really hustled.  And they were reasonably priced, too. We were both saying “thank the Goddess for testosterone and youth.” And experience - they knew what they were doing.

I look forward to seeing how the house takes shape, as we unpack the boxes, put up pictures, decide where to put things, and start really living in the house. It feels nice so far.

Sitting in my room (pictures soon, I promise - my DSL will be installed on Wed.) and looking about at my stuff (the stuff I have left, that is,) I’m struck by how big a change I made in my life. I’ve gone from being a "householder" - living a regular life, in a regular house, with a (relatively) regular job, to being a student again, living in a single room, sharing a bathroom, kitchen, laundry, etc., entering into a different relationship with the people around me. My days will be utterly different - in a different geographic location, a different time zone, with (mostly) different people and different contacts each day.

On the other hand, I’m struck by how little has changed. I’m still Michelle, still carrying about my varied idiosyncrasies and baggage, living in the same body I’ve always inhabited, with it’s set of issues, and my complicated relationship with it. I still have the same habits of mind, the same strange and wonderful thought processes, the same ways of thinking. No matter how radical the change in my everyday life (and this change is on the radical end, although I guess I could have been a little more radical,) I’m still the same person, and I’m dragging around the same virtual stuff along with me, wherever I go. I still look at the same person in the mirror in the morning (yes, I still have a mirror.)

Tomorrow, I will enter into a new process, with a bunch of other people who’ve made similar changes in their lives, to come to this place. We all have had, I expect, a lot of different reasons to follow the paths we are following, and I imagine that this is less of a change for some than for others.

I don’t know exactly what lessons I will eventually learn from this process (I suspect there are many,) but one thing I’ve learned already is that we are who we are, no matter where we are. We can change everything, and nothing will change. And, at the same time, change can force us to see that elemental us - those things that we have to drag along with us, no matter what.

I was sitting having dinner this evening with a group of folks in my dorm. Very nice group, nice conversation. One of them, someone who’d been around a while, said "when I was in your position I was panicked." I said "I’m close, but not there yet."

Well, just a few minutes later, thinking about the whole conversation (we went everywhere from what courses everyone is taking, to someone’s upcoming ordination, to internships, to what one of the D.Min students is doing for a thesis….), I’m getting panicked. Seriously.

I’m beginning to realize just how much I don’t know. I’m pretty used to understanding how much I don’t know- that’s a hallmark of a good academic. But to not know things in an academic sense is very different than not knowing things in a practical sense.

And, further, I haven’t finished reading the packet of readings I am supposed to have
done by Monday for orientation. Considering I’ve had them in hand for 2
months, I hardly have much excuse.

So maybe I should go do that now, while my laundry is going….

I have several words of advice for those of you out there who decide, like me, to abandon your householder life, to live in a single dorm room.

1) Don’t have the room on the second floor of a building that is built on a hill, thus forcing you to drag all of your stuff up two flights of stairs.

2) Don’t expect to actually fit anything in a 12×14 room. Remember how much stuff you had as a college student. Bring that, and ONLY that. It is astonishing the fraction of the room that a bottle of shampoo takes.

3) You do get a great deal on phone service - $5/month! (yes, that means I’m getting an actual real phone number. I didn’t have a choice if I wanted DSL.)

4) The closets are smaller than you think.

5) The bed is smaller than you think.

6) Bring bubbles with you for a calmness interlude between the stress.

OK, you get the picture. I have arrived, after wonderful visits with friends, and a long, long drive (more on the drive in anonther post.) Some of my stuff is in my room, some still in my car, and the 16 boxes that were shipped are still sitting in storage room of the basement of the dorm.

One of the things that was on my agenda was how best to set up an exercise program once I moved. First week, CHECK.

But the truth of the matter, is that even though I’m a bit overwhelmed by how much stuff to do and deal with, I’m completely ecstatic.

Now that the cross country trip is done, I finally have uploaded some more photos in the Travels photo album. PSR photos will be coming sometime in the next couple of weeks.

I’m in Summerland, CA, which is two towns south of Santa Barbara (after Montecito). It’s a nice little town, and I’m relaxing with an old friend of mine. She’s fostering many kittens (5 are in the house) which is a lot of fun. I miss my cats, and this is a way to get my fill of cat energy. There is a totally sweet kitten, called "Buffy" (of "Vampire Slayer" fame) sitting next to me purring her heart out.

Friday Cat Blogging will be fun this week.

I’ve got another week of betwixt and between-ness, before I move back up to Berkeley, and start my new life. Staying here is always a nice place to be mellow, and just take life in. I also look forward to my time in Idyllwild, with other friends, and a short sitting retreat at the Zen Mountain Center.

And, of course, there is wifi - so my IV of internet access has gone from the trickles I had during my trip, to a steady flow, at least until the end of the week. Nice. I don’t know exactly how and when I’ll get my access going when I move in, but there is a great cafe down the block with free wifi.

I’m cold. YAY! I’m sitting in Bolinas, CA, at the cousin’s of the friend who traveled with me, and, it’s COOL OUT. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy this makes me. After weeks and weeks of heat waves in Massachusetts, and 90+ temperatures (we hit 100 in Nebraska,) I am ecstatic to feel the need to put on a sweatshirt.

We’re in Bolinas, CA. It’s a tiny, tiny little town on the coast of Marin County, and it takes forever to get here. But it’s worth it. It’s a quiet little town, full of really nice people. I’m enjoying the day so far.

So, having arrived in California, the cross country trip is done. We had a great time - we got along famously, had only a few heated arguments (about politics and religion, of course.) I’ll be on my own heading to southern California tomorrow.

One of the things we both commented on, at our first major stop in California that we’d arrived "home". It was a strange feeling for me - and I can’t really describe it. Mostly it was about the people we saw. I saw the first other African American I’d seen since Boulder. We saw people sipping coffee, anti-war/anti-Bush bumper stickers. We haven’t had any problems finding my friend (who is basically a vegan) something to eat, which has been an issue in many parts of the country. Part of it was the landscape - it was much more familiar than the desert we’d come through. Part of it was knowledge that this was the state that will be my home for at least a while.

It made me think a lot about what home is. To some extent, I have two homes on the east coast - the Valley, which was my home for longer than any community I’ve ever lived. It will always be my home, I think. And then NY, where most of my family resides, and where I grew up. That will also, in some ways be home, too.

Now I have a third home, a new home, and I am very much looking forward to exploring and getting to know it. When we drove through the Sierra Nevada Mountains, both of us said that we’d want to go back.

I’m sitting at a cafe called Trident. It’s on Pearl Street, just a block from the Pearl Street mall. It’s been 11 years or so since I was last in Boulder, and it’s hard to believe - it feels like it was just a few weeks ago, somehow. It hasn’t changed a lot, from what I can see. Denver has gotten a lot bigger - that was pretty obvious from driving into the area.

I might take a drive up to Fort Collins in the next couple of days - I’m not sure yet. It seems a shame being only an hour away, and having a fair bit of spare time, not to go, and see the place I lived for 2 years. 2 years is such a short period of time, in some regards, but it was a very important 2 years - a lot more influential than the mere time frame.

It was a relatively short driving day - only about 7 hours on the road from Grand Island, Nebraska. But it was our fourth day in a row driving, and I’m pretty worn out at this point. And I can really feel the altitude. We’ll be here for at least 2 nights, possibly three. I intend to get a lot of resting, reading, and relaxing done. Maybe even some blogging, too.

Well, I cleaned out the last of the stuff in my house. After a week of crazed packing, hauling, tag sale-ing, moving stuff in my car to the house I’m staying in, to the storage bin, to the dump, etc. etc. I am completely, totally, utterly wiped out. I have never in my life been this tired, or this sore.

The good thing is that for the most part, I made it through unscathed. No big disasters, no major breakage, no major glitches. It all went pretty much as planned, except that it took me longer than I thought it would (not much longer, happily.)

The "Chaos" album has the last of it - tag sale, empty house. I’m sad, but ready to leave it behind, ready to move on (my body isn’t though - it’s simply ready for rest.) The last thing is the closing, on Friday - get my little check (tuition, yay!) and be done, finally.