“The desert is sucking me dry!”

I’ve been saying this to my acupuncturist for months. Well, realistically, it’s probably been more than a year now. 

I know I’m not a desert person. I solidified this for myself when I lived in the high desert in Durango, Colorado. Toward the end of living there, I felt so angry about scrubby bushes being in my view. I was so mad at those poor bushes. It actually makes me laugh out loud when I write that down. 

Of course, I know as well as you do that it wasn’t the bushes I was mad at, I was upset because what I saw around me didn’t match how I felt on the inside.

I’m not a dry, cactus, desert woman.

I’m a lush, tropical, green, lots of trees, water, mountain babe. I’m also someone who needs to feel connected to a place.

After living all over and seeing how different my life feels when my surroundings inspire me, I know this about myself and I know what it feels like when I’m aligned, and when I’m not. 

I landed in Ojai four months before we locked down. I know for certain that I was led to this peaceful, sacred valley of the Chumash for a reason.

Everything fell into place the moment I arrived – which is my way of knowing, my sign for, “it’s aligned”.

I came for three weeks to check it out and before I’d even left, I’d already found a place to live, a yoga studio where I would practice, a magical acupuncturist, a mechanic (because my car needed fixing), and the inner confirmation of, “This is the place”.

It’s been wild to ride out a pandemic where you don’t have a history or really know anyone. It’s been lonely, introspective, peaceful, busy, explorative, and surprising.

AND it had to be California after Tulum, Mexico.

I needed to close the chapter on what I left behind when I walked away from everything. I sold the dream house I co-created with my ex-husband. I got rid of most of my belongings. I moved into an Airstream on the side of a mountain. And got divorced.

I navigated through so much big shit during lockdown. I know we all did, and still are. The energy is unsettling at times. Right?

The forced stillness and simplicity served me well. I wasn’t flying around the globe, I was literally parked on the side of a mountain, mostly alone, with no one in sight. National forest land behind me. Views for days. 

I truly paused. I reordered my life, reunited with my animals, and closed the circle. The process of packing up and completely letting go of my former home, my former life, and the former me ushered in a deeper understanding and guidance about where I needed to focus my attention.

Letting Go

Letting go is one of the biggest actions I’ve taken over the past 30 years. I’m super skilled at this now.

Knowing something is no longer aligned is one piece. Having the courage to let it go is much harder and so tender on your heart. I rely on that inner knowing, without question!

I did wonder about living on the edge of wilderness, so far out. I even felt a slight foreboding, but when I put all the pieces together, it was more aligned than not.

I don’t doubt the decision to move up here on this mountain. All signs pointed me here. If I hadn’t moved here I wouldn’t have Lotus, my Airstream. And I know this tiny home of mine is aligned for me right now.

But that foreboding feeling … 

If so much of living on this mountain felt right, what was that feeling in the background?

I’m confident I know what it was, but I’d rather share about it after I leave Isolation Mountain and I’m in my next place.

I’m Moving

Ojai has been deep, nurturing, insightful, and a little confusing. I know it will all make sense when I’m on the other side of it. I’m not there yet.

But I want to share the process with you because it can look totally amazing and charmed when people share their lives, move around, travel, and live nomadically. What can often be missing is the rough stuff. 

And there’s always rough stuff. Promise.

Moving isn’t a breeze, ever! 

No matter how much magical shit falls into place, there’s always some turbulence along the way, and this past eighteen months has not been free from blips.

I’ll write more about that once I’m settled in my new space.

I will be moving to a friend’s place in a small town in Nevada County, in the foothills of the Sierras, here in California. She has a spot set up for Lotus, the crew and me.

It all fell into place so clearly that there was no doubting the move.

I thought I was headed toward the Pacific Northwest, but Spirit has other plans. I’m excited to see what unfolds in my new home.

Thank you for always being on the journey with me. I’ll be posting about the move on social media. I hope you can follow me there. We leave on Tuesday!

Always trust your process, 

xo Kelli Reese