Re-Inventing Karla a Year Later

 

 

 

It has been a year almost to the day since I started writing to you through Re-inventing Karla. I’ve continued healing and growing, rotated through four seasons, wrote to you from Paris parks and patisseries, skied in Tahoe, celebrated my 56^th birthday at the famous Bracebridge concert in Yosemite, went to Colorado’s Red Rocks with Karen, met mountain climber, Annie Whitehouse, braved the fierce spray from a waterfall last summer in Yosemite with Elise and Haywood, rolled through West Oakland with Lena, had tea with Gloria, and roamed through the Occidental Farmer’s Market on opening weekend, went on discovery walks through San Francisco with Ann, explored Point Reyes with Alexandra, discovered new cafes and rambled through a plethora of East Bay restaurants with a group of faithful epicures, kept my wild streak going and rocked at the Furthur concert with Maureen and Los Lonely Boys with Edie and the girls, and at the end of it all; cut my hair! And most importantly, enjoyed the solitude and the quiet and the ecstasy of the inner life with God that makes it all possible.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I realize what a good year it has been and I am grateful. The Daily Word reminds me that, “Life is meant to be lived fully and intentionally. As I string together day after joyful day I create a wonderful and blessed life.” 

I thought it might be fun to remind us all of my initial vision and how Re-Inventing Karla got started so I’m reprinting my first post . . .

 

For about three years I’ve been working on a book, Vacation at Home, Cultivating Delight in the Everyday.  I will post several of my ideas here; including the spirit of adventure, gratitude and love of place, being authentic, staying curious, keeping it simple, creating systems that liberate. . . the ecstasy of the inner life, embracing silence, listening deeply, engaging passions, sustaining rituals, rotation of the seasons . . . live music, movies, restaurants, theater, cafes, street life, energy and movement . . .expedition days, weekends, spa days and sacred grooming . . . the year of healing, retreats, books, reading, pots and more pots of tea  . . . holiday rituals, entertaining, designing experiences for others, re-creating home and moving the furniture on Memorial Day, favorite places, vibrant colors, eccentric characters, different identities, alternate stories, unlived lives . . .and keeping it fresh within the core structures. (Oh boy, rereading this gives me lots of ideas to write to you about during the second year . . )

 But my friend, Val, (a real writer, yes, the real thing) helped me to realize that all of this has been sourced by the core process of re-inventing myself.  I moved around a lot as a kid; grew up in several grade schools, three junior highs and three high schools, all in various parts of the country.  I experienced a fair amount of struggle and loneliness and self-consciousness trying to be clever and interesting enough to get some new friends every year.  Some years were good to me and some were brutal, especially in that hypersensitive part of the journey called adolescence.  I got a little broken there, but the strength and ingenuity I developed have served me through my life.  I know how to re-invent myself.  I’ve learned how to cultivate an awareness of joy and beauty and recognized the angels who have helped me along the way. 

I’ve rarely chosen to move as an adult, only three or four times, but each place has required me to re-invent myself depending on the culture, the work, the friends, my identity, my age and the gifts in that particular location.  I’ve never thought of myself as creative.  But I realize that moving through life itself is a creative process.  The most recent move was from folksy Eugene, Oregon to the Bay Area.  Some things were similar, like the progressive culture and the western vibe, but Oakland, California is very different from Eugene; very different indeed.  I didn’t want to go; I loved Eugene, I loved my friends, I loved our home, I loved the trees, I loved the wild Oregon Coast.  But seminary and ordained priesthood called to my husband, and I was part of the team.  When you’re married, their dreams are your dreams and their shit is your shit.  (Thank you, dear Judith for that quip.)  I worried about it for the two years before the move.  Alas, anxiety is one of my struggles.  But the day finally came and we loaded up all of our stuff and sweet Sammy, (our orange tom), and hurtled down the coast until we hit Berkeley.   

I worked through all the worry and moved down here with a decent attitude, thank God.   I immediately began to explore the area.  It’s so big!  There’s so much to do!  To learn!  To experience!  I loved it here and have kept loving it to this day.  I am enraptured in a love affair with the Bay Area!  We’ve been here for almost 15 years, the longest by far I’ve ever lived anywhere.  I’ve had the same job for over 10 years, the same husband for over 20, and most of the same friends.  But lately I’ve been very aware of being transplanted to a bigger pot where there is more room to expand my roots, my relationships, my experiences and my vocation into greater meaning and purpose as I get older.  This has been a new challenge without the forced geographic moves of my childhood.  I see so many people’s lives get smaller as they get older.  But time is so precious, (much more precious than money), and life is short and wondrous and it unfurls in its glory and its loveliness as I immerse myself deeper and deeper. I invite you, dear reader, to join me on the journey of reinventing self as we grow older, (not for the fainthearted!) in this wild, beautiful place. 

From my journals, Oakland, California, March 31, 2012.

 

Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music – the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people.  Forget yourself. 

- Henry Miller