the chosen virgo

every time I have to unpack my bags, I thank whoever chooses virgos for choosing me to be one.

I have unpacked all of my bags, sorted through five months of snail mail, and am beginning to sort through five months of electronic mail – with a heavy and loving delete finger.

along the journey I sent things home ahead of myself – a bag of things I had to buy in morocco, the cold weather clothes I needed in paris and barcelona, the clothes I just wasn’t wearing. unpacking those bags and the ones I lugged along has been a beautiful reliving of the journey.

unpacked items include:
the gaudi books from Spain, postcards from Paris, carpet and teas from Morocco, the art I made in Mexico, the shells and lava rocks from Hawaii, the vision board from windcall in Cali.
the shoes I had to get when I realized the cute boots I brought weren’t made for walking.
the oils, the pumice stone, the scarves. the sweatshirt I got out of a free box for cold nights.
the medicine bag full of stuff I never even touched but was told I had to have, the sage we picked and rolled.
the receipts and astrology charts and phone numbers of new best friends.
the stack of journals which are my most prized possession, full of truth and rants and raves and poems and songs and a-ha moments and sketches and short stories…

it’s silly – some part of me knows that I don’t need anything, that the journey is inside…and another part knows these things are my proof to myself, that I went, in case i ever forget. I didn’t buy a lot of stuff, but I found and grew and uncovered tokens of the journey, items that immediately remind me that I am free and can choose to be centered and healthy and happy.

it feels so good to tuck these things into my home, disperse them from the suitcase to the altar, the desk, the closet, the kitchen, the bathroom, all through the home they didn’t know was waiting for them.

there is a place for everything.

which i need to know, because I am coming home at a larger scale than I left – I feel like wings have unfurled from my back and balance has been redefined in my stance and light is beaming through me. I don’t feel perfect or completed or fixed, I just feel whole and alive, and like its time to start filling up the space of my greater creative unleashed self.

as I make space for good, for sacred, for solution, for truth, for smiling, it feels like an expansive endeavor that opens up more space for every other person I meet, to feel good about all kinds of righteous work and effortfull living.

in the world of my solitude and adventure, I expanded. now, in the world of other people, my work is to stay present, to not contract, to move into the realm of unlimited acceptance of the journeys we are all on towards freedom.

with precision, with a spare clean eye, with an order that allows for release.

and laughing.