Out of Place

Oh I’m out of place alright.

But I’m getting used to it.

It’s funny, all the years I moved around as a kid, I always got used to my new surroundings. Looking back, most of where I ended up, I was out of place, still, I went to school, did chores, made friends and existed fine enough.

Being adopted, I always felt like I was out of place at home, since it was all I knew, I just accepted it as normal.

It wasn’t until much later that I would find myself feeling like I fit in. Moving away, I was devastated. I chased the fitting in feeling for a big chunk of my life, even so, I spent whole decades in non-me situations.

We are getting ready to go back to California. (my home planet) for the winter. G has work, I have the gallery opportunity, on top of kids and grandkids, friends, familiarity.

Today, I have a huge appreciation for this experience and every other out of place circumstance I have landed in over the years. Even though I really really didn’t love the time I spent in Western Canada, talk about a fish out of water, that place was as far away from sunny beaches and flowing energy for me as could be. Even so, I made friends, skied, lived through those dark winters…it was already getting dark walking home from school. I tried to keep swimming, but my hair actually froze into icicles while I waited to be picked up. The dark mornings, the kids I couldn’t relate to, the teachers. Oh my! I haven’t been back since my parents passed.

Still, I am glad I figured out how to manage, how to do pretty well even. Maybe fitting in isn’t as important as I thought it was.

I’m saying this now. After I’ve made friends and found really good yoga, figured some things out. When I was new here, I was constantly uncomfortable.

I’m not all the way comfortable now, but I’m figuring out how to be upbeat dispite all the little out of place reminders. I’ve learned how to play down things that don’t help me, at least most of the time.

I’ve had some challenging moments even very recently, but oddly, Im in a moment of thankfulness. It’s good to feel discomfort, they say. Discomfort is how change feels. Its growth. I usually prefer to stay still and not grow, I’ve changed enough, haven’t I? Maybe.