Some things change, some things...take longer

Anxiety, especially of the undefined type, sucks the very life force out of me. Mike describes it as a "white-out," like the TV after the national anthem ( sorry, children..you won't remember that one). My habitual solution is staring at a computer screen until the anxiety is masked by shame for not being productive (damn capitalist society!). When I've had enough, I turn to my yoga and meditation practice, which creates space and allows me to take a deep, soul breath (note to self: make this your habitual solution). With enough space, anxiety dissipates, until the next spin of the wheel. And even though I have not yet rid myself of anxiety, I keep practicing because I have seen a statistically significant decline in severity and frequency over the years (sorry, I couldn't resist...once a data geek...).

Sometimes anxiety is attached to something, and sometimes it attaches to whatever I happen to be thinking at the moment, like a blood-sucking leech. Then I'm off down that path assuming there must be something wrong --- with the random thing I happened to be thinking about. My suspicion is it's rooted in pre-verbal consciousness and will never be fully understood. What I do not yet understand is why it travels a never-ending cycle through my psyche. Perhaps it's just part of the human condition, and it's louder in some people than others. Perhaps it begs for attention because there is some important discovery to be made (I get caught here a lot because I have done so-freaking-much internal work over the past 20 years!). Perhaps, at the moment, it's because I'm changing every aspect of my life in 2 months! lol!

The mystery, along with the anxiety, remains. What I DO know is that I must not let its voice rule my life, keep me from exploring the world, or (what happens most of the time) let it lash out at those around me. Those who know me well know Tekeka. I've (mostly) learned to let her carry on like trash in the background, but more often than I would like she whips out a forked tongue at somebody. I wonder if she'll be going to Asia...

Gotta start somewhere

I want to write. Apparently, I have thought this for a long time. We are moving to Thailand in September, so I have been going through my old journals, and have discovered references to wanting to write going back 10+ years. For as long as l can remember I have narrated my life in my mind, telling my story as I live it. I have no expectations or plans related to writing, I just know I have finally reached the point where I must.

I suppose I will start with the present moment, which happens to be a tornadic swirl of thoughts and emotions related to this move. Don't misunderstand, we are positive this is what we want to do, but that doesn't stop the crazy barrage of feelings, thoughts and practicalities related to completely changing every aspect of life as you know it.

On the one hand, I am over-the-moon excited about fully immersing myself in a different culture. There are so many things about Thailand (and possibly Cambodia) that I can't wait to experience! Practicing yoga; meditating in my favorite neighborhood temple; taking walks along the moat of a centuries-old city; volunteering with organizations that are making a visible difference in the world; visiting the hill tribes around the city; going to Myanmar, Laos, and Vietnam for long weekends; exploring all the markets; learning to speak Thai; eating all the food; learning to live with different routines, different bathrooms, and different people; ....and, well you get the point.

I love to test my boundaries and experience new things, but there is an internal price to pay for that. I have to be willing to experience the anxiety associated with leaving our two grown boys to fend for themselves (although this was the goal, right?); with leaving a solid, good-paying job; with not really having a plan beyond the next several months; and with not knowing how I will respond to the different routines, different bathrooms, and different people. I have been known to have periodic meltdowns on foreign trips related to too much rain, to not being able to find a western toilet, to physical exhaustion, to lack of aircon, and to sticky, hot beds. I finally realized those are perfect opportunities to practice radical acceptance of circumstances. My husband has realized those are perfect opportunities to get the hell out of there for a while!

I also have to be willing to deal with the CRAZY amount of practicalities associated with a move of this sort. Here's a sampling of our to-do list:

Closet down to what I'm taking!

• Passport photos for visas
• Mail visas, and pray your original passports make it back 
• Sort 25+ years plus of memories into three piles: give to the boys, keep, or get rid of (fascinating what makes it into each pile)
• Sell...one-by-one...a ton of things that you have been keeping for no apparent reason
• Get ready for a yard sale (or two)
• Sell the car (although now that I've had a wreck, this particular to-do has transformed into an anxiety)
• Find a home for Mike's MUCH beloved, and highly-finicky kitty
• Get everything out of two storage units into the house in order to scale it all down to fit into one, less-expensive storage room
• Find and copy all important documents we need to take with us
• Work a full-time, demanding job
• Work part-time jobs to raise as much money as possible
• Keep up a routine of yoga, meditation and cardio so I feel healthy
• Wait in limbo since we don't leave for 2 1/2 months

Sheesh! I think I need to meditate. Or watch something on Netflix.