Reconnection

At 5pm on Saturday evening, I unplugged my vacuum, scooped up a handful of cleaning supplies and walked them down my stairs adding them to a random pile of stuff awaiting a new tenant. My pickup truck was already packed. After slipping a note and key through the manager’s mail slot, I chased the setting sun to the Utah border. As I laid my sleeping bag on the red dirt a few shooting stars welcomed me home to my place under the Milky Way, my Steamboat life was but a memory.

The past week has been one of my most trying ones to date. I basically sequestered myself away in my apartment and went through 7-plus years of accumulation and reduced it so it would fit comfortably into my pickup truck. That last week in Steamboat felt strange. I got to say goodbye to a small handful of friends, but for the most part, I just hid out. I didn’t even go out for Halloween. This was partly because I had so much to do, but mainly because I had no desire. The effects of spending the last eight years as a newspaper publisher are starting to become apparent. Paulie, my business partner said it best, “It’s great because people don’t kiss my ass anymore.” I have found that my interactions, though fewer, have been more real.

In the past two days I have driven about 12,000 miles to Heartwood Institute outside of Garberville California. My girlfriend Cassidy is working here for a few months and I figure it will be a perfect chance to leave my old life behind and prepare for the new. The plan is to head to Las Vegas from here and put my stuff in my Dad’s garage and then fly to Montreal Canada for a month of Yoga teacher training in an ashram. I’m not sure if I will teach yoga when I finish, but I at least want to hit “reset” and figure out what’s next.

Judging by the smell, what’s next is dinner. Happy Election Day Eve! Spooky…