Move Across Country With Flying Monkeys, Baby Chicks And Fear Glitter
How does a move across country with flying monkeys, baby chicks and fear glitter connect?
We moved 900 miles from where we were.
This wasn’t a spontaneous choice. Despite the political cartoon circus, which wasn’t what made our choice for us either, but certainly colored the timing. No matter what the flying monkeys do, it only fueled our fire to get out of the city, to continue to think for ourselves and do what honored our individual sparks.
First we tried to move “up north” from Phoenix. Northern Arizona is high altitude, cooler weather and less dense population, then the sea level desert. Also, fewer flying monkeys.
We looked for a reasonable home for a reasonable amount of money. I found it ridiculous to rent a 960 square foot house of $1,600 a month. The second I saw a home available there would be 30 contracts on it. A new level of insanity.
The market makes little sense as the market makers are not sense makers.
Taking this clue that Arizona was done with us we decided our relationship was over, entirely. No compromising would mend it. When an expiration date has come due on a relationship, both parties wish the other sincerely well and move on. We have many fond memories of our life in Arizona, and the desert holds much beauty, just no longer for us.
While sorting through belongings that no longer served, the idea of letting go of other things came to mind: behaviors, ideas, and philosophies. I looked back at my soap journey and considered those who have followed me along the way.
What to keep? What to throw away?
I remember offering my first ebook and thinking no one would want it. If someone did, it would be a non-event. What surprised me was that the traffic was so abundant my Wordpress site crashed. That was surprising.
All my books have gone through many re-writes. I take criticism well. I also know the difference between true critiques and projected emotions. The valley between these two mountains of intention is vast.
Those sincere people who have brought things to my attention receive my gratitude. I took action on those words to make each book better. I value that you took the time to set your world aside and give mine attention.
I was asked a long time ago, “Is this the best you can do?” If not, I need to try again. So, I did and do. If there is even a wiggle of “I can do better” I do it. I have a lot of try in me.
I reflected on those who read any of my books and even went on to purchase more. This effort, this very action, makes my heart swell. Those of you who did this gave me the benefit of the doubt. You saw something I didn’t see and gave me enough space to do better.
This is one reason I offer gifts in each order. It is my gratitude in action. It is my continuous effort to thank you.
Crafting is a grassroots process. One that does not include a team of professionals. All this has been me, my efforts in the beginning. Along the way, it began to include you, and then my guy. I couldn’t do all this without you, and now, without him. In the beginning I was in my stupidly small apartment scraping together every cent to put back into the soap efforts. Some days, after weeks of not selling one bar of soap, I’d question my efforts. My guy was at work and the people around me, most, didn’t believe in what I was doing, so essentially there wasn’t an outside source to confide in. Certainly no one of substance, so I talked with myself. I strengthened my internal voice and treated myself as my best friend, someone who would not give up on me, no matter what.
I had to rally, steel my mind against the doubts and mind gremlins that crept in. I relied on rational thought, stoicism, determination and hard work. My emotions were not the guiding force, but only the soup, one way to gauge the temperature of life; an indication, but not the truth of the situation. Just as words are facsimile of truth, emotion is the wind behind the words.
When anyone begins a new project, it is my belief that the newly formed idea - the dream - is as fragile as a baby chick; vulnerable, subject to many dangers and must be protected.
While sharing my intentions and desire to move, over this past year, we’ve had our share of fear-glitter. That is exactly how confusing it is when someone says, “I’m just warning you. Just being the Devil’s advocate. Just saying why it’s a bad idea… Because I care”. Yeah, that’s on par with tossing glitter on me and saying its for my good. A mixed message and void of sincere support. Guess who has to clean that up! I know support when I hear, like many other things.
If a dream were a baby chick would I trust that person to care for it? I now know that’s how to gauge whether to share a dream or not. Will that person protect the baby chick or… ? Hard lesson.
So, while throwing out material objects this past month, the one thing I did NOT throw out was the idea of those who protected the baby chick I offered. I ran across cards and gifts you sent me, and squirrel them away to preserve those memories.
The din of the circus is hardly audible now, and I haven’t spotted one monkey. Circus glitter has been swept up.
This move has taught me flying monkeys are unnecessary, a good house cleaning happens on many levels and I don’t have to live at the circus. And, my baby chick is thriving.