These days I’m always nervous before travel. Initially I put it down to the instability in the world but by the end of my trips, I always realise that parts of me change beyond belief when I travel and my nerves are about that realisation.
I flew out from Sydney’s Kingsford Smith Airport on the twins’ birthday, 29th May. I always arrive too early but am grateful because it provides time to settle my nerves. And realistically, waiting is part of flying. I had breakfast and spoke to my sister about ordinary things.
The flight was not full and I had three seats to myself. It was the same on the way back. My transformation marked by how I handled this. On the way to the US I was nervous about the three seats, feeling undeserving, singled out, what was wrong with me that no one wants to sit by me – all of that garbage so I barely spread into two seats – on the way back, I owned all three and actually slept, sprawled over all three seats. Victory. Small behavioural changes that indicate the extent of the growth.
I struggled to blog whilst I was away this time. The experiences required some serious processing. I feel so blessed. To be able to travel, to meet new people, engage in new experiences, to love, to be open, to be me. This year is truly becoming a charmed year.
My first stop was with M and her family. I would spend three days and four nights with them before moving to L, where I would spend three days and four nights before moving to Las Vegas for the same amount of time. Three markedly different stops. All amazing.
It is rare for me to feel so welcome so fast anywhere. However, as I open to new experiences and select more carefully how and where I spend my time, this is becoming increasingly normal for me. M’s son had been perfecting his Australianisms; I don’t think I heard his actual voice until Tuesday. D had already decided that we would become firm friends, and so we are. M’s daughter was quieter with me, on the brink of adolescence, but so forthcoming in conversation that I felt accepted by her too. M’s husband, an amazing man, possesses a pure soul very much like my older male friends at home, friends I call family. Maybe this is why I feel so comfortable so quickly. I’ve just expanded my extended family overseas. And M and J’s dogs, treated like mine, no comment required. Instant love.
M had organised a therapeutic massage for me whilst she saw clients on the Tuesday morning.
OMG! I expected the type of massage I seek out at home. Just a massage. Knots being untied and liberation by the end. This was all of that and more. The impact, long term, has been phenomenal.
Within seconds of entering the rooms I felt at home. This is what I envisage my wellness clinic could look like. I took a photo of the door, with permission, as the symbol for it. Within seconds of meeting Nancie, I felt a profound connection. Another of my tribe. Unbeknownst to me, she wasn’t going to be the only one. Incredibly powerful women and healers would become the norm for my first two stops in Minnesota.
The massage itself, well, for parts of it I was out but conscious I was snoring, and the parts that I was wholly in for, there are no adequate words. I felt blocks start to loosen. I could see my future wellbeing manifested. I felt whole in a way I never have before. Crystals, oils, reiki, massage, Nancie: all that is required to initiate massive transformation. As a client, it was phenomenal; as a healer, it was awe inspiring. I booked in for the Friday to consolidate some of the loosening that had commenced.
I met M in India last year. I loved her instantly and by the end of India, as you know, I felt that I had met my tribe. Sustaining those connections would always be difficult due to distance and the realities of everyday living. And also, sometimes on holiday, connections are forged that are simply for a reason. I was a little nervous that these Minnesotan connections would just be for a reason. I shouldn’t have been.
M and I are twin souls. We connect and flow so fluently that time and place are of no consequence. I feel that I know her, and have known her, for many many lifetimes. Conversation just flows and if there is a pause, it offers time for reflection. This friendship, a limiting word, is permanent.
In fact, this trip offered many moments and experiences that words are not adequate to describe them; an interesting thing for a writer to realise the limitations of their craft.
We had lunch, we went to Duluth, sat on Lake Superior, we imagined her wellness clinic on her newly acquired land, we talked, really talked, we watched left wing news, we hung out with her MIL, sister and friends, we boated the St Croix River, I had Dairy Queen, cheese curds, got my toe nails done, saw St Paul’s cathedral, grand mansions (slight tautology there but necessary to emphasise the grandness – wish I had money), and just were.
My massage experience with Nancie was repeated on Friday, and was just as powerful and magickal as the first. I left feeling open and vital. When Nancie comes to Australia, you need to book in. Words do no justice to the power of the experience.
I felt a genuine loss as I packed up to move to my next stop. I cried. It hurt to leave M and L in India. It hurt more this time. Our friendship transcends time and place, but I wish I could just pop over for a chat or to hang or to travel, and due to distance, this isn’t possible. I have found a second home in the US. Weird for someone who never wanted to travel there outside of NYC. We should never say never, the universe pranks us when we do to emphasise our folly in limiting our experiences.
I love Minnesota. I love the accents. I could sit and listen to Minnesotans speak all day every day. And the people are just divine: welcoming, warm, genuinely nice.
An amazing start to an amazing trip.