"This Energy Doesn't Fit Me Anymore."

If you'd asked me two months ago where I saw myself spending more time and wanting to be, I would have said, "Boston."

I was smitten with being able to walk everywhere, especially to the Public Garden... with the choice of three coffee shops two minutes from my apartment... with restaurants and hotel bars to pop into... with my yoga studio...

"I'll likely move here full-time again," I said to someone. 

And I was in that mode. I'd even begun looking at small apartments to buy, thinking, "It's a waste spending so much on rent if I'm going to be here longterm. Just suck it up and buy a second place."

But something was off for me. An underlying current that had been there since I first arrived back in the city last April. An echo in the back part of my mind, one which would speak to me in dreams mostly, because I wasn't aware of it consciously. And that I didn't realize what they were trying to communicate to me in them.

For months, I would have dreams of being trapped in a house. A house I identified in my dreams as my old house in Toronto. It felt like my old house. It had the four floors. The street was lined with other homes - quaint and prim. I would be trying to make my way out of the house, but couldn't get out of where I was - either in the basement or the top floor. If I tried to leave, someone would see me. In my dreams, my ex-husband's energy knew I was there and keeping me there. I was welcome. But the new energy - one I determined as his New Missus - didn't know I was there. And all I wanted was to be out of the house, but wouldn't be able to get out without her seeing.

Each time I had the dream, which was weekly for a few months, I would wake up confused why I was dreaming it.

"Why do I keep returning there?"

That was a question I would find myself asking when I walked home in Boston.

There have been many times in the past nine months where I will be walking home, and instead of walking to my new rowhouse apartment - number 38 - I will find myself walking to number 52.

I used to live in number 52 when I was married.

"I don't live here," I would say, laughing.

Laughing because it was funny that the location was still embedded in me. Laughing because I'd chosen to live on the same street as before. The pattern of walking and turning in there was etched in me, even after not having lived there in over three years. 

In fact, all of my old patterns returned each time I was on the East Coast. Which isn't a bad thing. But over the past month and a half - each time I was on the West Coast - I noticed I felt more certain and more at ease with life. Simply out of necessity for the holidays, I was on the "Westside" of the States... And found myself being more productive than ever on a personal level. I felt called to write. To create. To explore. To be in motion.

All the things I struggled with in Boston. Things I had to push myself to do... Feeling as though I was always running in slow motion. Everything felt like I was "waiting" for it to begin when I was there.  

Starting to feel that then manifested a new series of dreams. The "Shitty Dreams" I wrote about a few weeks ago. The dreams where I was trying to pee, but was dealing with the purgings and energy of others, trying to clean up before I could do my own purging. 

"I'm always in waiting pattern," I noted in my journal, after waking up from one of the dreams. "How do I get beyond this?"

That was when I connected all of the "ayahuasca" moments I'd had.

"You need to go back to Iquitos and purge."

And I had been planning to, but not until the second half of this year. But then I got a message that Blue Morpho had decided to offer Sanango and Ayahuasca retreats in April.

"Could I do two weeks, back-to-back retreats?" I wondered. The idea exhausted me

I was surprised that I was considering Sanango. I vowed to never do that medicine again. 

"You need to go back to Iquitos and purge."

That inner voice was insisting. 

"Shed. Shed. Shed."

Those words - they didn't mean "aya" to me. They meant "Sanango."

I looked at the dates of the retreats, and saw that the Sanango one fell on the week of my birthday. A birthday that brings me into the 9-year, in terms of numerology. And the 9-year is about shedding.

"Okay," I decided. "Sanango it is."

The retreat is three Sanango ceremonies with five days of "dieta" (where we eat almost nothing, use no soap or external products on our bodies, and have all kinds of abstentions for six months after the retreat), and ends with two nights of ayahuasca ceremonies.

I booked the retreat. And then gave thought to what I was needing to shed. Not just with the Sanango, but what the dreams were telling me.

I couldn't articulate exactly why, but between the dreams and the decision to do Sanango, I suddenly found myself declaring, "I'm moving back to the West Coast in May." 

It came out of nowhere consciously. But over the weeks following the dreams and the decision to go back to Iquitos, I realized why I was doing all of this and what the dreams had meant. As well as the patterns and habits from my Boston life.

It came while packing for my current trek back to the West Coast...

"This energy doesn't fit me anymore."

I was packing my carry-on with my clothes and necessities for the two weeks our West.

"You should really just pack the big case with everything."

So I did. I didn't question it. I just did it.

Magazines I wanted to keep... Books I had acquired... My shoes... Nearly all of my clothes (except for the Winter stuff)... Trinkets... All went into the case. A large purple case that I knew would cost me $100 to check on my flight.

I saw my future self in May: Giving away my furniture. And packing all of the rest of my stuff (dishes and my cactus sheets) into boxes to ship.

"I'm shedding Boston," I said. 

But... The dreams...

"I'm shedding all the things connected to Boston."

And there is so much of my life identified with Boston... 

"It all doesn't get purged," I said. "But the energy of the city holds me back now. I've taken from it what I can. And I'll figure out over the next few months what else needs to shed beyond the physical space."

I don't know why I can't evolve in the energy of the city. And it sounds silly to identify a city in that way. To me, at least. But if you'd asked me four years ago why I was called to the West Coast, I couldn't tell you. I still couldn't tell you, actually.

But what I have learned - from my own patterns throughout adulthood - is that I do things that I don't know why I do them until months and years later. It's an "acting before thinking" thing.

I look forward to see where this energy shift takes me.