begin.

It began like most of my epiphanies begin: in Vermont.

I've been visiting Vermont for over fifteen years now, and although every trip is different, one thing remains constant: I find it impossible to return unchanged. Maybe it's the air quality, maybe it's the wide open spaces, maybe it's a little bit of green mountain magic. Honestly, the how doesn't matter so much to me. This blog is about the why.

Why was it so hard to come back to the city? Why was I immediately exhausted at the thought of picking up my normal life? And why, after thirty-five years of bigger, faster, better, was "fast-paced" starting to feel more like "over-stuffed?"

Epiphany: when you're living in a cabin in the woods for a week, you really don't need much. I literally wore the same outfit for days. I read books. I walked. I talked with my husband. I wrote a little. There was no make-up, no stress, no noise, and no expectations. It was bliss.

Yeah, yeah. I know vacation is not real life. But, truly, it wasn't the lack of work that struck me. It was the lack of stuff. After years of business travel, I have packing down to a science. I packed a very small bag for Vermont, and still didn't use everything. It just...wasn't necessary. And it got me thinking. What's enough? What does that even look like?

My normal, city-girl life is really effing full. There's work, of course. And theatre and dance and choreography projects. There's my volunteer work, and my social life. Relationships. Travel. The novel I'm writing. The calls and emails I need to return. There's my Reiki practice, and that Zumba training I need to sign up for, and -- oh, right -- I was supposed to find a conversational French group in the area. And I've been meaning to sign up for horsebacking riding this fall, and holy crap, when am I going to make it to Whole Foods because I really should be cooking dinner more often andyouknowIthinkIneedtolose10poundsIshouldcallmytrainerandgetonthatbutwaitdoIneedtoaskmydoctorfirstbecauseIdidhavethosewonkytestresultslastmonthanddoesthatevenmatterandwhenwillI...

So, yeah. I probably have too many commitments in my life. And with each of those commitments comes a whole lot of stuff. For my day job, there's designer clothes, bags, and shoes. At night, every style of dance has different footwear and class cards. My bookshelves are overflowing, and every time I open my disorganized kitchen cabinets, a random piece of bakewear from my former cake business days comes crashing onto my feet. It's enough. Enough!

Well, more than enough.

And it was time to make my normal life more like Vermont.