Signs

I just finished posting a comment on Wizmo's blog about a young man who passed away before he was able to fully realize his life, and it got me thinking about signs; the little signals that fate, destiny, karma, whatever, throw at us to reveal the direction we're to head in.

I have never been a big believer in *signs*, always thinking people see what they want to see, taking whatever they need from any situation. Until recently, I was firm believer in our own control over our own lives. This has been a relatively new development, as in the past I had always believed in the unknown, the supreme energy that surrounds our lives and enhances our experiences within our lifetimes. But the veil of cynicism has been eroding over the last few months, and I feel the last remaining shreds falling to the wayside daily. I feel more in tune with myself now than I have in an incredibly long time, longer than I care to admit. It is my intent (if, in fact, there is one) that this trip I'm about to begin will bring me closer to my own truths, my own self-actualization. It is my hope (without going into this with too many expectations) that I will find my "center" as Katya so eloquently put it...

As for the signs? Well, just follow along for a second...

I check my recent activity on my images at Flickr and come across this comment:

"But being a Gemini, a baptism in air instead of water is so appropriate! The Aries link was hysterical yet accurate, at least to this Sun-and-three-planets-in-Aries girl. Just ask the smoking pile of former boyfriends. Thank goodness my Pisces rising gives me a bit of subtlety. Keep the great photos coming!"

Not remembering the link she spoke of, I go to the photo's page, and discover it's the image I took of an old, decrepit baptism pool I discovered last year when traveling the countryside the surrounds where I live. Baptism, of course, being symbolic of new life beginning into one's own faith, (even if that faith is faith in one's self).    (Sign l)

I followed the link in one of the previous comments on this image and came across an astrology website I haven't visited in the longest time. I followed along in the site and came across the Gemini section. Being that I'm a Gemini, I was curious to see what I had forgotten it said about my sign. I had checked it out before and found it almost spot-on accurate, so I was interested in reading it again. I saw a new link entitled "Nude Horoscope". Funny title, I thought. What the heck is a "Nude Horoscope?". Of course, if you've followed my images on Flick at all in the past several months, you'll know I became somewhat known for *nude* self portraits, so what is a more fitting horoscope for me than a "nude" one?

Well damn, this is what I found:

"It's a practical start, Gemini. Get organized. Get your life in order. Do your budget and stick to it. The midweek erupts into a welter of activity and communications. You'll be here, there and everywhere, trying to keep up. Issues around the balance of work and home life could take a pounding. Make some decisions about how you want to run your life and put them in place with Saturday'’s New Moon. Bliss out at home. Or blob out! Whichever you prefer."

First off, let me just point out that this particular horoscope is for this specific week. I have spent the better part of time putting this together for my impending departure (getting organized), which is to go on a journey to explore and discover (getting my life in order) new places and new levels of my own awareness. September 1st is next Thursday, the day I start moving my belongings into storage, and the day my new mailing address goes into effect, it will certainly be the day (midweek) that "erupts into a welter of activity and communication." I have made "some decisions" (the trip) about how to "run my life" and they are being put in place with "Saturday's New Moon" (I leave Sunday)... huh.    (Sign ll)

Then I follow the link on Wizmo's comment on my picture to her images and her profile. I followed the link on her profile to her blog and came across this post, which, as I stated at the beginning of this post, is about a young man terribly cut down before his potential is realized.    (Sign lll)

Screw any self-doubt, I'm doing this thing...

Home

I’ve been walking around these past few days with my head in a muddled place.  Excitement and exhilaration are swirling around, competing with anxiety and uncertainty for the top spot in my consciousness.  Intuitively, I know this is being brought on by my impending (and approaching faster than I realized) departure; a reflexive action to the sudden shift in motion that my life has undergone within the last few weeks.  In theory, the idea to travel sounds wonderful; full of adventure, exploration, and discovery.  In reality, it’s quite the head rush.  

If I were just traveling for a few weeks and returning home at the trip’s completion, there’d be no anxiety other than the normal levels one feels when about to embark upon a trip.  But this isn’t a vacation for me; this isn’t a small adventure to explore sights unseen and areas unknown.  This, this undertaking of a magnitude I have had yet to experience, is the next step.  

There is no deadline, no timeline, and no final destination.

There is no “returning home”.

When I leave in seven day’s time (yes, one week from today), I’m leaving for good.  I’m giving up my place, packing up my things, putting everything in storage, and heading on.  I mentioned in a previous post that I’m not heading toward anything, nor am I heading away from anything, I’m simply (heh) heading on.

It’s simple really, the steps I’ve taken over the past few weeks to prepare for this.  I’ve scheduled the termination of my utilities, obtained a new cell phone (with nationwide coverage), switched banks (to a nationwide bank), got a safety deposit box to store my papers, leased a mailbox, and mapped a course.  But no amount of preparation prepared me for the reality of it all when it smacked me square in the face yesterday morning when I woke up.  

Over the past few days I’ve spent my time with the friends I’ve come to know over the years of living here.  I spent Thursday with a friend I’ve made recently; someone whom I was surprised to find a kindred spirit in, and someone whom I’ve been able to speak freely and openly with.  She is someone who I will especially miss, if for no other reason, because our friendship has only recently begun…  I spent Friday night with an old friend of mine; someone whom I’ve shared a rocky course of friendship with over the last few years.  Our friendship has transcended our time together at work, my dark period of 2003 when we stopped speaking for awhile, and various other upheavals in our personal lives.  And then last night, last night I spent with a friend whom I’ve known longer than anyone else here; someone in whom over the years I’ve been able to trust with my most personal of thoughts.  She and I have a varied past, one that has had terrible lows and incredible highs.  She has been an integral part not only in professional experiences, but my personal as well.  Our relationship didn’t work out, but our friendship has remained strong all these years, despite what’s occurred between us.

My expectations of these times spent with these people were such that I would be spending time with people I care for, people who I will miss when I leave.  I expected no more than good conversation, reflection on our past years together, and a wishing well of things yet to come.  But what’s occurred is an expected realization of what I’ve been missing out on all these years.  I mentioned in a previous post, either on this site or my other, that my relationships, friendships, and ties with my family have suffered over the years because of my working.  These past few days/weeks made that statement ring truer than I could have expected.  I’ve explored Savannah, had drinks in great restaurants, spent time at the beach, and had amazing discussions on varying topics.  It made me realize that I’ve only existed here in Savannah over these last few years, but I’ve lived here over these last few weeks.  It’s further enforced my desire to live the next chapter of my life this way.  I want to live, not just exist.  

I know this may sound a bit “melodramatic” to some, the description of my time over these last few years, especially to those of you who have come to know me through my journals and images, but understand I’m speaking in the most literal of senses.  When I went downtown, to the famous River Street area of Savannah (I assume it’s similar to the famed Riverwalk of San Antonio, which, yes I’d like to check out when I get there, even if it is “touristy”) the other day with a friend, and then again last night with another friend, I realized I hadn’t been there in over two years.  And even then, the last time, was for work; we sponsored an event that took place on the Savannah River on the fourth of July in 2003.

I have woken every morning for the past several years around 6 or so, taken a shower, gotten ready for work, and then headed the 2miles to work by 8.  My work day didn’t end until 7 PM at the earliest, often times later, after which I would head home to an empty apartment.  This has been the cycle.  Everyday, 6-7 days a week.  For years.  My entire life for the last 5 years or so has been centered in a 5 mile radius around my home.  I don’t suffer from a social phobia, nor am I anti-social, quite the contrary; I’ve just simply worked almost every day for these last few years.  I settled into a routine, a rut, if you will.  The passion I once had was smothered by my responsibilities and my misdirected energy.

That passion was reignited almost a year ago when I discovered Flickr and the amazingly talented people there.  I rediscovered this hidden wellspring of creativity and passion for personal exploration and discovery of life around me. I viewed my life through new eyes (often through the lens of my camera), and a new heart.  And if it weren’t for the people I met, and the progression that has transpired since my commencement into photography, I know I would not have been able to make the decision I made a few weeks back.

That decision, the decision to leave my job, to leave the life I’ve lived all these years, one of the hardest decisions I’ve made in my life, created an up swell of energy and excitement and propelled me into this new direction I’m about to head in.  I’ve been flying high, soaring in my mind to new heights of imagination and desire for a new life.  I’m not turning my back on the old, the life I’ve lead so far; it’s far too large a part of me and who I’ve become to ignore.  I’m taking what I’ve done and where I’ve been, and figuring out how to apply it to this new direction.

But these last few days…  I’ve been walking around my apartment with images and memories of the past few years flying by my mind’s eye.  They’re small moments, moments mainly of just my living here, no special events or any such thing; just my daily life.  It’s amazing that I’m being bombarded with this nostalgia really.  Ask anyone who knows me, and they’ll tell you I haven’t really enjoyed living here all these years.  But this is the place I’ve lived the longest in, in my entire life.  This is the first place I’ve ever really considered mine.  

This is the first place I’ve considered home.  

I’ve always lived a transient life in my mind, never really “settling in” in any one place, nor fully committing to any one thing.  On some level, I’ve always been ready to leave it all behind, to move onto something else.  Somehow, however, this place became my home, not just a place to stay.  Although at times, truth be told, this place felt more like a hotel room than a home.  In fact, a friend of mine from up north who once came to visit me, made the comment “Jesus, do you even live here?”  

Now I look at this place through nostalgic eyes, remembering;

• The first day I moved in…
• The first time I cut a rent check, ridiculously overpriced as it were…
• Buying my washer and dryer, realizing I was becoming “domesticated”…
• Cooking out for the first time on my grill (apparently in violation of a few Georgia fire safety laws)…
• Building my dining table and bed.  Yes, I’ve built my own furniture; it’s a hobby of mine.  No, I’m not Amish… :)
• The first time I “christened” my new bedroom… ;)
• The first all night party that had me up literally past dawn…
• The first photographs I shot in front of that now infamous window.  Who knew window blinds could be an accessory?
• The first time this place became a safe haven after a particularly bad moment in my life; where I took comfort in my surroundings and felt safe…
• This night...
• The first time I came home after a trip and realized I had missed my place while I was gone…
• So many other firsts… and seconds… and more…

This is not the first place I’ve lived on my own, by any means.  Practically since I graduated from high school I’ve been on my own, living from place to place, sometimes having no place to live at all…  But this was the first place I considered my own.  I think it has largely to do with the fact that I was the first tenant of this apartment; it was no one’s home before mine…  I’ve sat here, on the top floor, looking down on the fountain, watching children play in the water, cars coming and going, people moving in and out of my building, moving on with their lives.  I’ve never known any of my neighbors other than the cursory nod and mumbled greeting as we passed on the sidewalk, but I’ve outlasted every single one that’s moved into this complex.  I’ve even outlasted the original management team that was in place when this place was first built.  Everyone that has come here to work or live has moved on…

Now it’s my turn.  It’s my time to uproot and drift for awhile.  I have a course, but no destination.  I have a plan, but no intentions.  I have a route, but no direction.  And I have a departure, but no return…

There is no returning home…

Jeep Trip 2005®

So here it is; the route of Jeep Trip 2005^®…

• Savannah,GA
• Jacksonville, FL
• Tallahassee, FL*
• Mobile, AL
• Biloxi, MS
• New Orleans, LA*
• Baton Rouge, LA
• Houston, TX*
• Corpus Christi, TX*
• San Antonio, TX*
• Carlsbad, NM*
• Santa Fe/Albuquerque, NM*
• Flagstaff, AZ*
• Black Canyon/Phoenix, AZ*
• San Diego, CA*
• Los Angeles, CA*
• Santa Margarita, CA*
• Big Sur, CA*
• San Francisco, CA*

I may be crazy for doing this, in fact, I think I am.  

I’m not heading toward anything, nor am I heading away from anything; I’m just heading off.  

*Denotes overnight stay.

Begin

It’s amazing, really, this transformation that’s occurred over the last few weeks.  Just a few short weeks ago I had a job, a career, a path to follow.  Things dragged, and time seemed to slow to the virtual point of stopping for the longest time.  And then, in rapid fashion, everything came to an abrupt end.  I say “abrupt” because when it finally came, the end, it happened faster than I thought it would.  I knew it had been coming for some time, knew it would eventually happen, wanted it to happen, but still, it caught me somewhat unawares.  

Was I prepared?  Sure, on some levels.  Ok, a lot of levels.  It was something I had been thinking about for quite some time; years to be exact.  Looking back now, I can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but I’m sure there was a turning point. At some point along the way it became a life I no longer wanted to live.  Alright, truth be told, it was never really a life I wanted to live.  How amazing is it that I’ve identified myself through my jobs all these years, and never really by who I was?  I’ve always sought something, something intangible that I could never really see, or reach, but something nonetheless.  Apparently that was pretty transparent to others in my life…

I remember this one evening when I was living in Hilton Head.  I had just come home from work and my roommate was in the living room watching The Prince of Tides (good movie by the way, if you haven’t seen it), and was just about at the end.  I sat down to catch the last few minutes of it since I had never really seen the movie in its entirety. In the last scene, the sun is setting as Nick Nolte is heading home to his family; driving across this long winding bridge that spans this gorgeous marsh.  As the sun sets the marsh is aglow in hues of subdued oranges, reds, and yellows.  It’s quite an amazing moment.  For me, the scene reflects closure for the character.  The colors, subdued as they are, reflect a quieting of the fire that has raged inside him since he was a child, having never reconciled with what happened to him while growing up.  Throughout the entire movie his character recounts events that happened to him and his family when he and his siblings were children in hopes of helping his sister.  What transpires though, is his own healing.  He is forced to face his own demons and admit to himself what occurred was real, and that he must overcome them.  He takes a true journey into himself to discover his pain, and in return, learns to experience love.  And in this final scene he is driving home to his family, to begin his life anew.  The scene fades as he drives across the bridge into the setting sun.  As the movie finished and the credits began to roll, my roommate turned to me and caught the expression on my face, an expression I was unaware was present.  She paused in mid-turn and said, “Don’t worry.  You’ll find it.”  

Caught off guard, I asked, “Find what?”

She responded, “Your place.”

My place.  She could have meant a place for me to live, or she could have meant a place within my self.  Either way, she was right.  She nailed it on the head and I didn’t even have to say a word.  

I had been living in Hilton Head for a little over a year when this moment happened, and I think she knew I wasn’t happy there.  Hilton Head is great, don’t get me wrong.  It’s beautiful, and clean, and safe; everything many people are looking for in a place to live, but it wasn’t a place for me.  I didn’t know what I wanted; all I knew is that is wasn’t there, so a year later I moved to Savannah.

Savannah is a charming city, full of Southern culture and history.  I’ve lived here for the past four years and knew from the first day I was here that this isn’t my place either.  I’ve spent the better part of the last four years trying to determine where this place exists.  I’ve recounted my times in other cities I lived in, wondering if perhaps I had over looked something, I’ve researched various cities online, spoke with people from around the country and around the world, and talked with friends and family; all in hopes that I would discover this place.  Then I realized something awhile back.  It wasn’t where I was living that was the problem, but rather, me.

I hadn’t found my place within.  I had been so busy exploring everything around me, that I had overlooked one very important factor; myself.  Like Nick Nolte’s character, I had been blindly ignoring the obvious; the issues I had with my life and where I was were due largely in part to my own issues with myself.  I wasn’t able to define myself, to understand what it was about me that made me, me.  Don’t get me wrong, I had a healthy understanding about myself and what made me tick, but I hadn’t accepted large parts of who I was, who I am.  I realized this on the verge of my 26th birthday.

A few months before that birthday, I was pretty burnt out at work.  I had recently been promoted to GM of my company and was working from morning till night, changing company policies and procedures; overhauling everything.  There were many times where I would work 24 hours straight without even realizing it.  Then, at one particular low point, after coming off of one of my marathon work sessions, it hit me.  I was spending all my energy and time on my job, and none on myself.  I was just about to turn 26 and I realized I had wasted almost the entire year.

All my life I looked forward to turning 25.  For me, that was the age to be.  No longer were you a kid, yet you weren’t quite an adult.  It’s a nice middle-age; where you’re still young enough, yet old enough at the same time.  And here I was wasting it all on work.  For those of you who don’t know, I’ve pretty much been working my entire life in one way or another; from picking vegetables on a farm when I was 12, to having a paper route when I was a teen, to working in various grocery stores while in high school; all during which I participated in sports and attended honors classes in school.  And when I was younger, 25 seemed the age of freedom; freedom from being seen as a “kid”, and freedom from being seen as a “responsible adult”.  It was an age where you were allowed to experiment with your life, to take chances with no fear of retribution because, after all, you’re “in your twenties”, as if that statement alone validates whatever crazy things you do.

And here I was, about to turn 26 and I hadn’t done anything with my 25th year other than work.  I hadn’t experimented with my life, tried new things, and met new people, nothing.  All I had done was work.  Being that I thought I was missing a rite of passage, I decided to no longer waste any time.   I promptly began going out almost every night after work, living it up at various bars and clubs in Savannah’s famous downtown area.  I met a lot on *interesting* people, and had a lot of *interesting* experiences.  I was loose and free and casual with everything.  Many a time I came into work the next morning with my sunglasses firmly planted on my nose to block the annoying light from the overheads.  It was a great time, a fun time, and it promptly ended when I turned 26.

After months of partying and acting wild, I decided to quit it all.  I gave up drinking, the casual (but safe) sex, smoking, the one night stands, everything.  I settled into my job and threw myself at my work.  Because, while the previous months had been great, in a completely superficial way, they had produced more questions than answers; questions I wasn’t yet ready to answer.  

So for the past 3 years I deluged myself with work.  I threw myself into my job in hopes of avoiding the greater issues.  After all, work is a safe environment, there are no “what-ifs”, no “maybes”, only problems and solutions. And my job at the time was to find those solutions.  But somewhere along the way I began to lose myself to my career.  My identity was defined only by my actions at work.  My thoughts; thoughts of work.  My words; only conversations about work.  My entire existence became validated by only that which occurred at my company.  Along the way I lost relationships, friendships, my family, myself.  

Recently I hit rock bottom. There was a major upset in my company when it was sold and I was no longer the one responsible for it all. My time was no longer consumed by my responsibilities because my responsibilities became less and less as time went on. In an effort to fend off boredom with my free time, I began writing and rediscovered photography (two things I once had a passion for when I was younger).  They began innocently enough; merely hobbies to fill the void between my times working.  But something happened along the way.  I began discovering new things about myself and my life, things that had been hidden for years.

I slowly started down this path of self-discovery, and along the way met some amazing people and had some amazing experiences.  I began to explore the depths of myself and discovered latent characteristics I never knew existed.  I also discovered some interesting truths about myself and my views, not only on my own life, but the lives of those around me as well.  I soon discovered though, that this path was leading me further and further away from the career I had chosen, a career I never really wanted in the first place.  This path was leading away from familiar territory into regions unknown to me.

There were plenty of dark moments, when I sank into the darkness of insecurity and uncertainty.  It was in those times that I was confronted with some harsh realities of who I was and the life I was living.  In the past my normal course of action would have been to ignore such realizations and throw myself back in to my job, but I found myself unable.  People I knew, people who barely knew me, pushed me, encouraged me, and supported me during these times and I eventually began to push myself, to encourage myself, and finally, to support myself.  Slowly I became more comfortable with who I was and what I wanted out of my life.  Slowly I became surer of what it was I didn’t want, and began exploring the ideas of what it was I actually wanted.  Slowly I walked further down that path and away from my career.

For some, this progression may not seem like much.  But for me, I was walking away from the one thing I identified with, the one thing that I had allowed to define who I was.  This path I was on was leading me away from that, toward an unknown destination.  But I knew it was a journey I needed to take, and eventually I saw its destination; my resignation.  

My resignation was more than just me quitting my job, or changing careers.  It was a turning away from a life I had lived for years, a change in my outlook on life, a change in my attitude, a change in myself.  On faith, and nothing else, I walked away from my security and my comfort, and turned toward a new beginning; not knowing what lay before me.  

On faith, and nothing else, I’ve turned to myself; not knowing who I really am, and have begun to walk again.  I don’t know what lies before me, only which is already behind me; the life I once lived, the person I once was.  I am on a new journey of self-discovery, where I will no longer allow any one thing to define me, but rather, will allow myself and my life to define who I am.  

The path lies before me, untrodden and unknown.  

Let’s see where it leads, shall we?