Anatomy of a Move - pt. 6

Part VI - Fin - Originally Penned today, February 25th, 2024!

We made it! The 6th and final installment.

Today marks the one-year anniversary! *cheers* If you’ve made it this far, you’ve read the anatomy of a move! Looking back on the past year and how I’ve gotten here has been insightful. I don’t know why I felt compelled to share all of this, it just felt right. Something was calling me to make it public. It’s also extremely satisfying and liberating to drag some of the less pretty bits out into the sunlight. I know there’s very little chance that someone will find this retelling of a very mundane story interesting, but this isn’t really an exercise in trying to present a perfect or even curated picture. This is about discipline and structure creating a space for authenticity and creativity to thrive, in all its undisciplined, messy ways.

The day I moved in I felt a weight lift that I swear has been there since before I was even born (generational trauma?). I felt like I had finally made it … because I had. But then the work started. Do you know how hard it is to move alone? Without movers? Those of you who have done it, know. I had some help here and there with the big stuff, don’t get me wrong, but it was minimal. And those who helped, know how much I appreciate it. I’m talking boxes and boxes and boxes of things from three previous homes (Boyfriend of far too long, Toxic BF, and Angel-new-friend-for-life) scattered in various places, and trip after trip in my tiny little 2008 Scion xB. I also had my dog with me on most of these trips because I had no other choice. The kicker? It rained almost the entire first month. I didn’t realize how much I needed to be able to set things on the ground or lean things (including my body) up against my car until it was pouring down with rain, and I couldn’t. I was lugging around cumbersome objects and cardboard boxes filled with records or books while managing a dog on a leash in a land of new smells, in the rain! It was chaos. Eventually, I found myself with a hyperextended elbow, shoulders crunching and popping with pain, 2 am charlie horses, and soreness in places that I didn’t know existed.

I won’t lie, in that first month, I truly questioned whether I had screwed the pooch on this one. The first night I had a bed, an empty dresser, my dog, some water, and a cute astronaut space man projector that my friend had sent to me from Minnesota. It was the first piece of mail I received at the new address. There was a storm that night, complete with thunder, and my dog was on edge. New sounds, new house, no ambient noise. I ended up pointing the projector to the ceiling where stars and nebulae would dance while playing some white noise on my phone. We made it through. More than once during that first month I shed a tear or several thinking I had made the wrong decision and in all my selfishness I backed myself into an inescapable corner that had zero chance of success. The rain was constant and everything in my body hurt, but … I had my own bathtub, and Epsom salts & magnesium flakes are a relatively inexpensive indulgence that can help with that. I could light candles, burn incense, and do ritual as loudly and as much as I wanted. I could hang my alchemical art. I could dance in my kitchen (and record it even) as much as I wanted. I could film myself doing tarot readings without disturbing someone else’s living space. I could invite people over. I could walk around without a bra on for hours and not have to worry about a teenage boy’s gaze or the invasive hands of a man thinking that because I call him “boyfriend” he is entitled to grope me at will. And every single one of these very small things makes every single twinge of pain or pang of guilt worthwhile.

When you start to invest in healing, you’ll hear lots of advice recommending that you get in touch with your inner child. I never took that seriously, until I did. At one point I just said, “alright fine, let’s see what all the fuss is about.” I started to think of the things that used to bring me joy when I was young. How did I fill my time? What lit me up? It was simple things like singing into the handle of a jump rope in the living room. Dancing, constantly! My body requires movement to music, period. Reading while eating sunflower seeds and drinking Pepsi. Pickles! I might be reading Jane Magazine or, “Gone With the Wind,” it didn’t matter, the act itself calmed my nervous system, brought me to center, and we all deserve that. When I consider that back in 2021 I was relearning myself, coming out of decades of drinking myself into black out states and mania to the point of violence at times (for this I am deeply sorry), and that where I landed was being completely at peace with a quiet, small place that looks exactly like me, (romantic, colorful, messy, cluttered, artistic, creative, bookish, travelled, musical), where I can sing and dance as much as I want, perform to the audience that isn’t there, and then plop down on my couch to read esoteric books and write about magic is something of a full circle moment.

As basic as it sounds, I am just the unapologetic older version of that kid who sang into hairspray cans and painted a little extra makeup on her Go-Go’s poster because they needed a little extra oomph. The detour I took, was bonkers. But getting back in touch with pre-adolescent me has been humbling and beautiful and above everything else, healing. 10/10 recommend. That kid was pretty great, and I abandoned her. Never again.

So, what has this last year brought? Pain, joy, stress, fulfillment, fear, confirmation, tears, liberation, guilt, honesty at all costs, success, gratitude, grace, and more beautiful baths in one year than I’ve ever been able to enjoy in any year previous. I created an online salon for fellow magicians to commune. I regularly get to read tarot and natal charts for others. I was introduced to the majesty of “Fast X”. I took another trip to London. I cultivated a garden of my very own that produces delicious vegetables. My baby sister is engaged. My middle sister has purged the things that were holding her back from shining like the bright star she is.

My magical practice is flourishing and fierce. I’m currently writing a book (maybe 2?). I have a clean bill of health. I’m prioritizing family and the friends who prioritize me. Work is back to thriving and being an organically renewing source of joy and fulfillment. At the end of the year of the Chariot, I was able to purchase a new chariot of my own. I had to finally bid adieu to my car of 16 years and was lucky enough to be able to buy a brand-new baby with only 8 miles on it. The list is long and distinguished, (yes there’s a Top Gun quote that would go here if we were standing in the same space and speaking these words aloud), and a mixed bag. I am on the path of a life filled with curiosity, novel experience, and mystery, just like I’ve always craved, and I couldn’t be more content.

If you made it to the end of all this, thank you. There’s not much more to say than that, but I’ll add, I’m guessing if you made it this far you either know me well and you’re someone who shows me love on a scale that previous versions of me would believe to be misplaced due to my lack of worth, or you too are someone who’s going through it and you need something to believe in*. If you’re of the former category, I just want you to know how much I love you back and that your support fuels me. I thank you times infinity and hope that I can prove to be worthy of your kindness / energy. If you are of the latter variety, take it from an average gal who’s been put through the ringer more than once, you got this. Baby steps. Start small. I’ll add some books that might help (see below). I am here for you.

The world is filled with hurt people. People who are missing or hiding parts of themselves and trying to find wholeness from without. You’ll never obtain your wholeness from an outside source. Only you have that superpower, and it *is* a superpower. Even if the world tries to convince you otherwise, don’t let them take that from you. Your small can be as small as, “I am going to brush my teeth immediately upon rising,” and if that’s your baseline, start there. Commit to yourself and build. You deserve it.

Please don’t think that I think I’m done. I have not reached the finish line, there’s no such thing. There’s so much more healing and thriving to come. It never ends. But it’s not a chore, it’s a privilege. And tonight, to celebrate my milestone I’ll walk my dog, make a great meal, pop a bottle of something cheerful, dance around braless, and when I get tuckered out I’ll take a bath and settle in to enjoy some Twin Peaks in honor of Twin Peaks Day yesterday. I hope you get to experience something similarly satisfying. Thank you for indulging me.

She said with love,
Jenn

*There’s also the off chance that you’re a hater. And that’s fine. You’re welcome here too. But because I’m also looking out for you let me say, you just wasted a whole lot of your time reading something from a person who makes you really upset. You might want to reconsider giving anything that makes you that angry that kind of time. Your time is valuable. Just a thought.

Book recommendations:
The Untethered Soul – Michael A. Singer
Atomic Habits – James Clear
A New Earth – Eckhart Tolle
The Four Agreements – Don Miguel Ruiz
The Myth of Normal – Gabor Mate
The Body Keeps the Score – Bessel A. van der Kolk
What Happened to You? – Oprah Winfrey and Dr. Bruce D. Perry
Women Don’t Owe You Pretty – Florence Given

 A book I’m very excited to dig into:
Four Thousand Weeks – Oliver Burkeman

Don’t mind us out here, thriving!