writing for self-discovery

There’s a song, Fall Down as the Rain, that my daughter, Jessa, sang at my father’s funeral with Dan, her partner, who was also the guitarist. It’s about the seasons of life and the inevitable beauty of death. Today, that song has been playing in my head. I’ve turned myself around yet again.

………………………….

I wanted to write. I needed to write. But I was hopelessly uninspired until I started reading Unreasonable Hospitality. 

The book tells the story of a restaurateur in New York City who wanted his restaurant to be extraordinary; the best in the world. The first year, at the annual awards ceremony for the fifty best restaurants, his was number 50. He agonized over how he could improve his game. The chef was exceptional, and the food was already exquisitely gourmet. He decided he would focus on the guest experience, upping the ante to provide unreasonable hospitality to his patrons. And if they were to be treated to the ultimate in service and graciousness, the staff would also deserve to be deeply respected and appreciated. 

He devised a plan and implemented it. The following year, his restaurant was voted number one.

Reading his story made me aware that the events of the past few weeks have jettisoned my life into the realm of the extraordinary once again. Suddenly, I wanted to write about it, to tell anyone who would listen about this sudden, wild, and spontaneous adventure that came out of nowhere.

Take right now, for instance. I’m sitting in a 4th-floor, luxury apartment overlooking the coastal lowlands of South Carolina. At high tide, the view from my balcony looks like this.

Low tide drains those sparkling pools.

This is a trial run, a test to see if a permanent move here is viable for me. I’ve been three winters and almost four summers in the remote northland of Minnesota, where my neighbors are my sister, brother-in-law, and an old friend of the family who moved there shortly after I did. Acres of field and forest stretch between our little community and the next house.

I fell asleep to the lonely wailing of coyotes and woke up in an alternate universe – turned myself around again.

When I landed in Charleston, my daughter whisked me across two bridges into the town of Mt. Pleasant and this complex of 224 units. I instantly had new neighbors. From the balcony, I could watch bikinis worn by tanned, toned, young bodies strolling to the pool, and slow-shuffling gray heads walking their shihtzus and corgies. Instead of the mile-long, dead-end dirt road to my little cottage on the farm, Ben Sawyer Boulevard, with its non-stop beach traffic, hummed day and night. 

I’m revisiting old prejudices. Whatever I had against air-conditioning in the past is passé. With the heat and humidity hovering in the nineties 24/7, AC moves from nice to necessary! I’ll acclimate. It just takes time. But I will say this: it beats nine months of Minnesota winter any way you slice it! 

Despite sucking soupy salt air into my lungs with each breath, I love it here! Everything is easy and accessible. The Publix grocery store is a few blocks away. There’s a Mexican restaurant even closer with superb spicy margaritas! And the amenities available to residents are unreal. There’s a pool, a fitness gym, a yoga studio, a conference area, work stations, a lounge, and a whole corral of bicycles to use whenever the spirit moves. A beautiful courtyard on the 2nd floor of my building screams PARTY TIME!!!

Valet trash pickup comes to my door, and a package delivery service, FETCH, does too. There’s a free shuttle to the beach… I don’t know… does it sound a little too good to be true?

But here I am, and it IS true. All of it. 

The apartment doubles as my daughter’s office. I’ll have the added benefit of seeing her and my granddaughters regularly. That’s what kicks this into the ultra-extraordinary category. If I make this permanent, I’ll get to be here. With them. 

None of it was planned. I didn’t see it coming. But Uranus moved into Gemini on July 7th, where it will remain until November 7th, and as the renowned astrologer, Steven Forrest says, The shock of the unexpected will be everywhere, in the headlines and in your own life.

It’s only August 1st. There are three more months of potential shocking unexpectedness. One could get dizzy with all this turning around!