follow the flow
a travel journal and photography journey
I'm in Massachusetts! My physical travels are beginning.
I sit here in my aunt and uncles house in Framingham—wearing fuzzy socks, sitting next to a fat purring cat named Albus (yes, as in Dumbledore), and observing the stillness of the winter cold just outside.
There is a scent of Massachusetts that strikes me whenever I visit—it runs through my nose and down my spine and it let's me know I came from this land. The air is crisp, and seems to penetrate the lungs in a sometimes harsh way, but so pleasurable to me as I arrived.
I'm here, in part, to spend time with family without agenda—no plans, just seeing where the flow takes us. This is rare, since living in different parts of the country means we often only have the time for the big gatherings with the big activities. So this is different. And lovely. And refreshing. To spend each day not knowing what's next. To be in their house, in their presence, and learn the intricacies of their everyday lives. I have had such fun, long, multilayered talks with my aunt Jenny, and caught up over food with my uncle David. I have snuggled in my cousin Lily's bed—eagerly and openly absorbing what it's like in her world of high school in 2019—and have walked in the brisk air with my cousin Adam, talking about the different ways we move through, or with, our emotions.
I'm also here in MA to celebrate the arrival of my nephew into the world! My brother Braxton and sister-in-law Meghan are having their first child. An absolutely magical time that I'm so grateful I can be here for. And they are ready. They have read all of the books, done the meditations, recited the mantras, felt the emotions, done their personal work, had the baby-showers, made the plans—they are damn ready. I could actually feel it when I saw them the evening I arrived. They felt different, checklist aside. There was this easeful readiness in them both, grounding them with vibration. The knowledge that there was really nothing left to be done but to wait...and to go on the journey, whenever it happens. The Rose babe (as they frequently like to call him) is due any day now...
I feel this in the air, too. A similar energy to the one I experience in Meg and Brax. An allowing of inevitable change, by remembering to just let time move, and embrace the movement. I feel it in the energy of my travels. I feel it in my beautiful partnership with Terence. I feel it with my family, here, now. We are all affected by the entering of new souls, the exiting of souls, and the more nuanced evolution of the souls we see everyday. Like the chilled trees outside my aunt's house, or Meg's belly, I find there is always wild amounts of life and growth happening under the surface of something seemingly still.
It has only been 3 days since I have been here, and I notice that the ways my family and I relate to each other are not the same as they used to be—not in a bad way, in an actually quite amazing and necessary and good way. Myself and "the kids" of the family are adults now, as a new generation gets ready to make its entrance. And we are learning to connect with the "adults" of the family as peers, and as friends. We are all learning to connect with each other as peers and as friends. I notice a primary importance of connecting to myself first—through my morning practice, or the increased sense of checking in with what my truth is—and how that actually fosters more and more connection between myself and my family members. I feel a gradual learning that whatever dynamics were present during childhood don't need to become the stories of our adulthood. I witness us creating whatever kinds of relationships feel the best for us now. And part of the fun, and challenge, and amazingness of this is, it's not like we planned any of it. It just happens.
So I bathe in this stillness. The stillness of the Massachusetts winter. The stillness in this house. The stillness of waiting for a baby to arrive. And I am bathing in the presence of my wonderful, funny, quirky, intelligent, passionate, outgoing family. I never get the opportunity to just be here. To just be here. And I love just being here, and curiously wondering what growth has occurred under the seemingly still surface of all of us?