Thursday, March 19, 2009

Moving away from isolation...


Hawaii is the most isolated human habitat on Earth, 2300 miles from the closest place, the US mainland. Being so far away from other people is why some people might move there, that and the delusion that its a tropical paradise where the women wear coconut bras and frolic on the beach for buff local surfers who manage to support themselves singing and playing the ukulele.
When you live anywhere...even tropical islands, you accumulate a lot of shit. We call them earthly belongings or possessions, but really its all shit that weighs you down and prevents you from freedom.

My "things" were neatly stored in drawers and closets unaware to anyone just how much "stuff" I could fit in a studio apartment. When I had my yard sale the sewage was revealed to the world. Once I place something on a table and attach a $1 brightly colored sticker to it, it becomes dead to me. I wouldn't take it back if it was brand new and on sale marked down from a very high price....and a name brand. Forget it, its garbage!!

It was frightening how much clothing I owned. It spanned 3 tables and a hanging wire rack. Hiding back in my apartment was the large "keep" stacks that looked like a Ross stock room. I took pictures but they are too shocking to post.

I sold a lot. I underestimated the amount of people who are in love with the trends of the 1990's and early 2000's. When I got back inside my cubby hole I was in shock to find a tiny tornado had gone through it in my absence and left a horrible mess. I guess I'd hoped the little packing fairies would immerse and have a packing party. No such party had been held. I spent the next couple of days sitting and staring at it.

I have two dogs, Zoƫ who is a huge chihuahua mix and Patrick who is a Toy Fox Terrier/Jack Russell. The dogs hated the chaos.They didn't know where to lay around or chew on a bone and lay around. My sister came over to sit with me and motivate me to get packing. I had bought my tickets and time was ticking. Moving off an Island entails flying off it. Packing up a moving van would have been HEAVEN. Instead everything was packed in small boxes to be kicked 2300 miles.


The destination was Nashville, Music City. Was it my hometown? Was I trying to make it big as a country singer? Did a angel come to me in a dream and say "ya'll better move to Nashville".
Nope.
I'd never been there. It was the perfect place to start over.
It took me 3 days to organize my dogs tickets. There was only one airline that would let me take both and that was United. Unfortunately, it was also the most expensive but beggars can't be choosers. Patrick would ride on board with me as my carry on and Zoe would ride with the luggage. Zoe came to Hawaii with me so she'd been through this before, Patrick was completely unaware.
But Patrick is normally completely unaware.
He was a good dog, so much in fact no one was aware of him until i told someone. Jenna, my best friend who is a Naturopath Doctor, had made a rescue remedy for the dogs to drink to naturally calm them since you aren't allowed to give them anything sedative.

It took 3 planes to get me and the puppies to Nashville, each one progressively smaller than the next. The last plane was in fact a coffin with wings. At the start of each flight a flight attendant would find me and hand me a note stating that Zoe was safely aboard. This was reassuring since I couldn't see her between flights.

When I arrived in Nashville the wind was blowing 50 miles an hour. Patrick had not peed in 12 hours. I waited at the luggage rotation for Zoe to appear. She was crazy excited to see I had not shipped her off.

Move complete, my puppies and I are now ready to start a new life.

1 comment:

  1. Best wishes in the new city darlin' - and congrats to your courageous dogs!

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