I Am (In The Flow) Now and Then

Arizona Trail, fall 2022.

Who Was I Then? Who Am I Now? Who Will I Be Tomorrow?

Maui, April Fools Day, 2024 — In the flow… Spiritual teachers tell us that the two most powerful words in spoken language is I am. They warn us to be careful what words we put after those two, because that is what we create. Intention is powerful.

I am

that

I am.

Mindful.

Conscious.

I am resilient. I am successful. I am prosperous. I am loving. I am in the flow.

Then: I was a working mom and a full-time teacher, a writer, a photographer, a lover, a musician, a caregiver, a mess-maker, a mess cleaner-upper. I was a woman who was ruled by others’ schedules and needs, and who had anxiety at the thought of letting someone down. But I had purpose! And I was blessed with a loving partnership.

Now: I am proud of my three adult children and my two beautiful grandkids. And I am beside myself thrilled with one more grandchild on the way this summer, 2024.

Can I get a woot!?

Now: I am Grandmommy. I love watching my little granddaughter get lost in play with her stuffed animals, and my grandson when he is in the middle of creating games with his baseball cards or playing his version of street hockey in the driveway. They both seem to find flow naturally and easily. And my grandson, in particular, gets mad when that flow is interrupted.

I understand.

When flow comes, it’s always in the middle of something: working, creating, writing or hiking. It’s that part of an activity when time seems to stop, momentum propels, and the work seems effortless.

Delicious.

Flow is where a sense of AWE hangs out.

Then and Now: I long to be inspired, to feel connected, to be in the flow too. I can find it when I get out of my own way and sit down and write without over-thinking. I also find it in the middle of a long day of hiking. Never at the start. Starting is hard. And not at the end either, when I’m tired and done for the day.

Flow is special, flow is elusive, you can’t force it. I’m not sure you can plan for it either, although I could be wrong about that. William Faulkner joked that he only wrote when inspired, but luckily inspiration struck him every morning at 9 a.m. Maybe flow comes with habit, I don’t know. But I do know that multitasking, stress, perfectionism, interruptions and not having enough time will kill flow before it even gets started.

Flow takes time, and time is our greatest asset. We can always make more money, but we can never make more time. We get what we get.

Now: I am still a writer, of course, I suppose I always will be, although I haven’t done much of it in the past year. I wrote the first draft of my memoir before the Covid lockdown, created this website and blog during the lockdown. At that time, I also began submitting my work in earnest and getting essays published. And then I took a job as a Covid investigator for the state of Hawaii, and put my writing on the back burner for a little while.

Maui showed up for me, by the way, at a time when I needed music, sunshine, a community, a network, a job.

Now: It’s also true that when I quiet my mind, there is still a wad of crumpled up loneliness in my in gut that sits there like undigested food, and I wonder if that will ever go away.

Now: But I am also finally seeing the future! I started a real estate investing side hustle, and am thinking about going back to teaching. I often fight the blankety-blank voices in my head that tell me I’m an imposter. How can you call yourself a real estate investor when you don’t have a performing property yet? Update: a month after writing this blog, I closed on my first investment property! Some days those voices are so strong that I lose the fight. And some days I win. Either way, the fight costs me time and energy. Such a waste. Clearing my schedule and finding my flow again helps, whether it’s a hike or writing a chapter or block of time “doing the reps” analyzing deals. It’s fun.

I am generous. I am faithful. I am a good friend. I am smart. I am compassionate. I am creative. I am in the flow.

Now: I am a resident of… wherever I happen to be! On Maui, in the Pacific Northwest, in my car, on the trail, barefoot on the beach, in my woodworking boyfriend’s mainland warm and homey and dusty woodshop. My friends’ and children’s couches. A tent in a campground with a firepit next to lake, under the Milkyway on warm summer night.

Now: I am a musician. I play music at Unity church on Maui every Sunday that I am here on island, and recently I realized that I don’t have that imposter syndrome in front of a congregation anymore. None. Whoa…. a win! Sometimes I even write songs or meditations, and love to get groups of people singing.

Then and Now: I am a pilgrim, one who travels on a sacred journey. Seven months after I became a widow, I walked the 500-mile Camino de Santiago pilgrimage across Spain, and in 2022 I finished the 800-mile Arizona Trail, a trek from the border of Utah to Mexico through canyons and mountains and deserts. Thru-hikers and pilgrims rely on trail angels and albergues and each other. It’s a beautiful community of people who “get” it. A trail family. (Let’s face it, who else understands why anyone would want to hike miles and miles weeks upon weeks, except another who does the same?)

I am a networker. I am a helper. I am a home creator.

Now: The people I have met in my real estate investing world are abundance-minded, givers-back, blue ocean, faithful people of integrity. We “get” each other. Sometimes it’s all we want to talk about and our families get sick of hearing about it. My decision to become an investor stems from my desire to create a sustainable financial future for myself so that I can be there for the people I love, and so I can give back to all those who have helped me in the recent past.

Tomorrow? Stay tuned. I guess we’ll see!

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It was fun to write this rambly “I am” blog post! I even found a state of flow for a while. It wasn’t all that long ago that I had trouble sitting still long enough, or that I had trouble seeing past a week, or a season. I couldn’t see a future. I still don’t know what the future will bring, but at least now, I know I have one.