Space and Seeds

Columbine!!! 

Columbine!!!

 

I am packing. We are getting ready to move all the way across the country. I am forced to ask what is important. Literally and metaphorically of course. It is coming down to space, and seeds. 

I literally have to get my whole life into a van. It seems crazy hard. Then I remember that I moved out here on a greyhound. My stuff is not my years. My old journals are not my creativity. I have to trust that making space will make a home for potential. 

I am feeling sad about leaving my friends, but because I tour so much, and we have the internet, that doesn’t seem to feel as painful as leaving Seattle itself. I am having a hard time leaving my home and the way it feels to wake up and walk to the sound and look at the mountains. I can’t bring the view with me, so I have settled on seeds. I have become the crazy lady taking seeds from all the roadside flowers I love on my way to the water. I have actually met several of my neighbors that I never spoke with all the years we have been here by knocking on their door and telling them how much I have always drooled over their hollyhocks or lupine and asking if I can fill my pockets with some seeds. 

I guess I will have to do the same with the journals. I’ll flip through them today. I’ll see if there are any seeds. I’ll jot them down and leave behind the 50 notebooks that will not fit. The seeds are easy to carry. And they will grow well with all that space. 

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Yesterday I cried. A lot.

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You Can't Censor Your Inner 15 Year Old -or- Why I Want To Make A Cover Album