7.24.18
When I stepped into the tiny studio my first night in California after 2,000 miles moving from Minneapolis, MN. to Point Richmond, CA., an overwhelming feeling occurred. I was truly alone in a strange city thousands of miles away from any form of comfort. I remember the intimidating darkness surrounding me when I was laying out my yoga mat on a makeshift wooden platform left by the previous tenant. There were so many different emotions, but the one which surfaced the most was fear. I had never been so scared in my life. Not in when I was turning 18 and moving out of my mom’s house.
There was no sense of jubilation or accomplishment, just bone chilling, “Oh shit I am alone”. I remember walking down the street with Suki, my greyhound terrier on the phone with my mom. Speaking to her observing the tiny dead squares of grass and looming cut up SF style houses. The physical push just to walk up the hill to find a place for Suki to potty was immense. Not only had I been there for a few hours and only seen the likes of my land lady, but there was no one I could refer to for comfort or familiarity. No peers (that I knew at the time) close by to chat up and ask about the neighborhood or gaining warmth to my new surroundings.
The months that ensued I became more familiar with my residence. This included the odd hours of night and morning where the dark energies emerged. Homeless in odd pockets and people wandering in drug induced dazes. I will never forget my first night in Point Richmond in the beat-up home front on Tunnel Ave where I slept weary of those outside the walls of my “new sanctuary”.
Even now in hindsight, the feeling of what I experienced still feels foreign. I am grateful for the path and challenges I have faced. As Chelsea Dinen says so eloquently “And that’s when the world becomes your oyster. Moving cross country alone taught me more about how independent, strong, and capable I am than any other experience". This jump was one hell of a sacrifice I will never forget.
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