Coming Home: 6 Months of Couch-Surfing Comes to a Happy End

And a New Beginning

This weekend marks eight weeks since I returned Cleveland. And, as I’m finally ready to move into my own place – my home – and take stock of what’s been patiently waiting for me in all those boxes and stop living out of these suitcases,  it’s incredible to look back. What an eight weeks it’s been.

My intentions, one year ago, were to close up shop, escape the Midwest winters, lower my taxes and expose myself to new culture. I’m a restless soul and I had to shake life up, because that’s what the heart demanded. And so, by December 2013, I did, closing out my semester, my apartment lease and my car lease, all within weeks of each other.

I spent the first four and and a half months of 2014 on a lifetime adventure. Think of it as Eat Pray Love, but instead of following Elizabeth Gilbert’s journey to Italy, India and Indonesia, my travels took me to Ireland, Mexico and three U.S. cities. Some destinations, like Chicago, Dublin and Austin, were planned. The detour to Coral Springs, Florida was a last minute and unexpected blessing. And the return to Cleveland, directly from Cancun was never, consciously, the plan when the plan first began.

But that’s life. In the movies it’s less about what happens to our protagonist, but, rather, it’s about her reaction to a series of unforeseen events and impossible obstacles. Will she overcome them and become a wiser soul in the end, finally finding and keeping what’s she’s wanted most? Or will she continue to repeat the same mistakes, foolishly expecting different results?

I’m grateful for all of it. One of the reasons I was able to pull all this off is because I work for myself. This isn’t a luxury. This is over five years of dedicated sweat equity combined with extraordinary technology. Another reason that it all fell into place the way it did is because of friends and family that welcomed me as a flatmate, sometimes at the very last minute, opening their homes, their hearts and their lives. Entrusting that my stay, whether three nights, four weeks or even two months, wouldn’t disrupt their rhythms too much. I hope I didn’t.

I learned so much about the lives of others – people who I thought I knew – realizing mostly that when it comes ot their personal lives and their professional obligations, everyone is working really, really hard to make it, to live it, to enjoy it and to lead something meaningful and true. In three cases, it was the men who were the primary cooks in the household. On one stay, I befriended a silly, loving and adorable dog. On another, I learned corporate management techniques from a hyper-intelligent cat. Mostly, I learned whether for an individual or a couple, what commitment truly looks like. Commitment in health, in work and in love.

And, in many ways, this entire journey has been on giant quest for love. All of life’s foundation depends on it. My life depends on it. Because before we can be loved we gotta love ourselves, first. And in this first half of 2014 the one consistent thing I’ve seen, felt and absorbed is love. Dublin helped me heal. From all of it. Which made my heart, for the first time since I can recall, feel whole. The gift of that is something I didn’t expect. Instead I simply accepted it. Then I was able to feel, deeply, the love of all the people I stayed with. And I witnessed the accumulation of all that love watching my Sis and Ken get married on the gorgeous beaches of Cancun, surrounded by twenty-one people who, as I branded their Agents of Shield, celebrated that love.

In the two months since returning from the sabbatical, I’ve been beyond fortunate to stay with two people and a central location that’s made all kinds of things possible. Being downtown, by coincidence or by plan, personally or professionally, I’ve met up with all the key people that made the re-acclimation into this city a continuing and wonderful surprise. Whether business meetings or dates, friend dinners or client consultations, being here, for eight weeks has paved the way for the next six months.

Last week, particularly, was pivotal. It was the last week of June and first week of July. It was the end of Mercury Retrograde. It marked the end of Q1 and Q2. And, between July 1 and July 4, all kinds of possibilities frozen in Matrix poses for weeks finally came falling down, most falling out. One stepped forward. With great clarity.

One year ago I would have been blind to it all. Because one year ago my heart vision was blurry. It could only see thru cracks. Today it sees the whole picture.

As I head into my first private home in over six months, a home I must furnish from scratch, and as I refocus on what happens next, part of me just wants to sit down and write about everything that happened while I lived life out of two suitcases. But, I must, instead, focus on my business and clients, promote Diary of the Dumped, the book that played a key role in my healing process, and work with Anita on finding an agent and commercial home for The Dating GPS. These are the professional and fiscal priorities for the rest of 2014. This is now laser focus mode.

Besides, I don’t think Act 3 of the next book has happened, yet. When I was in Austin, via a pivotal phone conversation, someone who knew I just completed a break-up story gave me the following challenge: “For your next book, I want you to write a love story.”

Challenge accepted.