Part of my vision and dream was to live in a city by the ocean that was walkable to essentials like groceries and fitness/yoga studios. (Ideally a trapeze rig too, but that’s a tall order).
For the last 6 months — Spring Equinox to Fall Equinox, a half-turn of the annual wheel — I have bathed in the glow of Southern California.
For most of that time, and consistently since May, I have cradled in the coves of La Jolla, the Jewel by the Sea.
Except for some rare trips away from La Jolla village, I have walked everywhere: to the gym, to physical therapy sessions, to yoga practice, to my favorite juice bar, to local shops and restaurants, and to the beach. Daily.
All parts of my daily experience.
This was the vision. It was the dream. I knew for years that I needed this. And I made it happen.
I manifested it.
Not through some “hocus pocus affirmation magic” — although that, too.
Real manifestation requires some work.
The work starts by simply being willing to speak aloud what you need and what you desire.
Then comes the hard part: being willing to give yourself what you need. And being willing to release what’s in the way of bringing your vision to life.
Beliefs. Thoughts. Ideas. Expectations.
How will it work? What will it look like? Where will I live?
I played scenarios in my head, but life doesn’t always match up to what we imagine. It turned out that the one place that met all 3 of my ideal criteria — walkable area, by a beach, proximity to a trapeze rig — wasn’t the right energetic fit for me at this time. And things I didn’t expect — meeting a physical therapist who helped me see how my body was moving dysfunctionally and the cause of my compensatory patterns — drew me to a different place.
I sold my home to make this happen. I got rid of a lot of stuff and put other stuff in storage. Traveling light meant leaving my journals and books behind.
Routines. Community. Activities.
I gave up 6 months of flying trapeze and trampoline, and the community that comes with it.
Even though I’m exercising more and getting stronger in many ways, I know that I will regress in my trapeze and trampoline skills, and my eventual return to those sports that I love will be another journey of rebuilding.
Control. I had to relinquish the control of the day-to-day management of my real estate business to colleagues, while getting involved only on the high level coaching and strategy sessions, which is where I shine.
This was by design; it was central to my vision for how I could serve my real estate clients in a way that allowed me to focus on the work I do best, and stand in the value of the work I do, which is bigger than helping clients “buy and sell homes.”
But the road from vision to reality took time. To get to a mindset place where I could relinquish control took a lot of inner work and a physical change in my location: it took my being 3,000 miles away for me to fully embrace delegation.
Lots of other things too.
But none more crucial than identity.
At the core of every change is a shift in identity.
What we fear most in any change is not what we will lose, but whom.
Which part of ourselves will we lose when we make a change?
Another aspect of identity: which part of ourselves do we doubt?
Before I sold my home I had many moments of wondering:
Could I really do this?
Was I the type of person who could sell her home, park everything in storage, and live a nomadic life?
This is a question of identity.
I had no question that I wanted to do it; but, to be honest, I didn’t see myself as “that type of person.”
Because I wasn’t. Yet.
I wouldn’t become “that type of person” until I released what I was holding and ventured out into the adventure.
A year after selling my home, after 6 weeks in Panama earlier this year, 6 months in Southern California, and over 30 moves since last September, I’m much more of “that type of person.”
Still holding on to too much, but releasing more quickly and able to move with more ease and grace — both in my body and from place to place.
It lies at the crux of every change. From your habits to your home, no change happens without a shift in identity.
Who do you need to become to live the life you envision?
You’ll become that person only when you step into that life.
Which part of you do you need to release?
Change requires giving up who you are to become who you want to be.
Identity changes when you change.
As we shift to fall today (in the Northern Hemisphere), and with Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, coming up this weekend, it’s a potent time to consider your identity.
Who are you? Who do you want to become?
I’d love to hear what emerges for you.