nesting and manifesting

At the end of the day, after giving my two week notice at work, I took the train from downtown San Francisco to my parked car in Oakland and drove directly to my local incense/stone/candle shop. I dressed a white candle with my intentions. I bought a small bundle of sage and some sticks of Nag Champa. I drove to Trader Joe’s and bought some olive bread, goat cheese, red wine and coffee ice cream. I hummed and sang under my breath and tried not to dance too flamboyantly while waiting in the handcart line. I went home and listened to music with powerful horns.

My phone had died while I was en-route after work and I’d missed a call from my boss. She told me later that she had called in an attempt to convince me to change my mind, to get me to stay at the job. She got my Erykah Badu voicemail song instead. I couldn’t be convinced, anyway.

There was dim light on me when I dutifully bopped in my living room giving my altar some new attention and lighting my sage.  I had a generous clump of goat cheese on my olive bread and still couldn’t help trying to hum as I thought about how grateful I felt. How peaceful the buzz in my body was, having made this decision. It was with this powerful peace that I began nesting for the new future I wanted for myself.

Over the next two weeks of completing my job, I was working overtime in my home to make room. I pulled open every drawer. I combed carefully over shelves. Stood on top of things to get to the backs of cabinets. Digging, pulling, washing, turning over things I no longer needed or wanted. The more (belongings) I prepared myself to part with, the better my vision became of how big my new future would be. I found myself making sacrifices—I held up a long chiffon button down shirt that I’d had for years. It was sleeveless, bright blue with yellow flower-like shapes all over it. I’d worn it as a casual dress, a fancy shirt with a sweater, a dressdown shirt with my arms out. Even thinking about it now is making me want to wear it again. When I held the shirt in front of me I saw one of the buttons hanging off and another button place that had been replaced by a safety pin last year. Looking at the shirt, I remembered that I no longer liked the way the shirt fit, now tight around the hips and therefore bunching in other places. It had been time for this shirt to go a long time ago.  Even in the condition it was in, it felt like a sacrifice to give up this thing. I was glad to put it in the ‘to-go’ bag sitting by my front door if it meant that I now had room for something in its place that fit me well/better.

Growth always requires giving something up. This is not easy. (Talk to any toddler you know about what it was like to give up their favorite item of clothing once they’d outgrown it. Talk to yourself about what’s still in your house even though it doesn’t fit you anymore).  In addition to giving up things in my house that I had not touched, worn, or looked at in the past year I also gave up some old attitudes when I gave myself permission to make room for something new and better. Leaving my job without securing another job first (on purpose), the first thing I gave up was fear about my finances. I have to let go of this fear at least once a week. I let the fear go that is tangled in my stomach or stored in a muscle on my left side that leaves one hip clenched and higher than the other. I let it go so that new breath can live in the contracted places, so that new possibility of movement and circulation can take place with my permission and encouragement. I gave up my old thoughts of inadequacy. Choosing to focus my attention on how possible the new me is and how powerful and brave I must be to jump like this so that I can fly. I give up doing shit on autopilot (I choose to give this up several times each day). I give it up in order to make room for curiosity and possibility.

I’m the new baby I’ve been nesting for. I gave myself permission to start over (again). I have to remind myself of this commitment to starting over every. single. day. I’m preparing myself and everything around me for the long haul of anew that I am pulling in right now. It’s big and needs a lot of space, this new thing. I’m curious about it and I’m sure it is curious about me.  

How I make room for my new life//how I celebrate my new life as it is on its way:           

Write my intentions, Visioning: see my goals/dreams/intentions, Empty my refrigerator/fill it up with good food, Take out all of my trash, Clean my house (disinfect, polish, the whole shebang), Vacuum, Iron all of my white shirts with starch, Wash my dog, Play music with horns, Take a bath (preferably with a little coconut oil so I can scrub dirt from under my skin), Celebrate how the old has served me/throw a party to welcome the new!, Light incense, Wash my face/hands/hair/head, Charge up my crystals, Smudge my house, Organize/ clean off surfaces, Open my windows and doors when I clean, Let my neighbors hear me singing Beyonce without shame, Stretch the old out of my body, Look at my capable hands in appreciation, Put my feet in the ocean, Sing a self-song ("Don't you forget all your lessons,"), Call my mother, Caress my own face.