So, I live in beautiful Western New York… land of the State Park in the Allegany Mountains, Mayville Park on Chautauqua Lake, Point Gratiot on Lake Erie, and endless vineyards in Westfield and Fredonia. Stunning places, each one!
But winters can suck. Big donkey balls, to be honest.
I had a trip planned to visit my sister this past weekend. Mother Nature, God-bless-her-so-much, had other plans for me however. My flight got cancelled, not rescheduled, just plain ol’ cut from the roster. Snow, wind, wind, snow, snow, and wind.
I have often thought of moving. The winters just wear me out. But then we get a hint of summer (I’m in my shorts as I write this… winter thaw when three days ago, it was sub-zero wind chill… I know, right?!) and I’m unpacking my bags and gushing about how I love this place.
I have five children. They all live within 2 hours of my house. Here in WNY. Which also keeps my bags tucked in the corner of the attic and only out to fill for the occasional vacation.
Sure, I could leave all this snow behind… but my children? My friends? My running route? That one particular spot where my pooch poops every morning? (OK, so I could leave thaaaaat behind.)
Staying for me is hard. I run. I try something out, get bored, get overwhelmed, get disappointed, and leave. Staying? That’s risky serious business right there.
I think it’s why I strain to stay. Somewhere deep in this goofball soul of mine, I know that staying is part of my growth. Part of why I committed to a marriage – 30 years and still hanging in – five children – talk about commitment – and now a pooch named Gia who is the darnest cutest cutie around the block.
Staying. To stay. I totally dig this particular definition:
a period of staying somewhere, in particular of living somewhere temporarily as a visitor or guest
Because if there’s anything I feel like, it’s a visitor. There’s a part of my guts wandering around, in search of “home.” That’s why I think I’m here – in this low vibe, in this manifestation of skin ‘n bones ‘n muscle – to learn something. To experience stuff, rather than just know it as head smarts. To allow this adventure of life to seep into the marrow of my bones and into my heart and become part of my DNA.
Or maybe it’s more like waking up a part of my DNA – my divinity, that shiny glittery True Self – that has fallen asleep, forgotten who I am and my purpose for being.
As in being here. On earth. In WNY. Among the trees, mountains, lakes, acres of grapes, beaches; among my family and friends and my pooch. And the snow, the wind. And the wind and the snow.
And so I stay.
It’s a very brave thing. But, then again, waking up and raising the vibe of the earth is certainly risky.
Energiegal here… Love works. LIFT the vibe of our world.