As I power-walk down the street, I observe perfection. Perfectly manicured yards. Perfectly clean streets. Perfect weather. Perfectly behaved children. No two houses the same and many of them architectural jewels. Life moves at a slow pace and what they call traffic is laughable. The people are southern-friendly. Everyone owns a bike and uses it regularly. As Garrison Keillor would say it’s a town where “all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average”. Naturally, it was just proclaimed as having one of the top best school systems in the US.
Everything is so sweet and simple that it is jarring. There is so little crime that all the police have to do is give out parking tickets and chastise residents for going without bike helmets. Housing is in such high demand that rentals are gone within 2 hours of being published in the local paper. Kids roam freely throughout the community and like Cheers…. everyone knows your name. It feels fantastical. I keep looking for someone to pull back the curtain and let me out into the “real world” like in the Truman Show.
Waiting to wake up from this dream. In the meantime… I will enjoy life in Coronado, California.
Moving three thousand miles away from home, arriving on a Saturday and beginning work two days later has got my body saying WOW. It took three days to adjust from East Coast to West Coast time. On top of that, I didn’t realize I was walking around in a jet-lag fog until it lifted and I could see clearly again. Kinda like the person who gets their first pair of glasses and is shocked to discover how blind they had been.
Information from new job is truly coming at me like water from a fire hose. Thank goodness I had the foundational knowledge or I would be absolutely drowning. This is my fourth day and I’m just beginning to get my feet back under me. Tomorrow I’ll be standing, and next week I’ll be running like the wind 🙂
Pretty much settled in my temporary studio apartment on Coronado Island, and am very pleased with what they describe as a “partial waterview”. The complex is so nice, that if I had a 2-bedroom, I’d be permanently settled. Our lifelong dream has been to live on the water, in a walk-around area … just didn’t know we’d have to wait this long and travel so far to get it.
Oh well…. better late than never.
After jumping in, I remembered most people consider me short at 5’4″, and I was used to normal pools starting at 3′. Real pools and real swimmers start in 4′ of water, which means the shallow end is up to my chin. This turned out to be just one of many mistakes I made on my triathlon journey. As it turns out, the triathlon has become a metaphor for my life.
I just jumped into the deep-shallow end again. Let me explain… last year I had an “a ha” moment and decided that I was wasting my time doing things I knew how to do in my sleep. It took being fired by a client for me to realize this. This was a client who paid well and the work was right in line with my expertise. Unfortunately, she absolutely refused to follow my suggestions and consequently I was failing at completing her tasks. So, one day I decided to do it my way and had immediate success. But, successfully completing the task was not enough. It was more important to do it her way. Therefore, we parted ways. As with many things in life… it was the best thing that could have happened to me. It awakened me from a five-year sleep. I’m now wide awake, 3,000 miles away from home and beginning a new adventure… following my passion.
The Journey Begins
I miss the smell of him, his smile, and his gentle touch. I miss tousling his hair and massaging his body. We’ve had some incredible moments together like the night we took the wrong bicycle route. I was sure I knew the way, but by the time I realized we were on the wrong path, it was too dark to go back through the park. So I distracted him by talking about the wonders of exploring new roads. Then we stopped at a doughnut shop for one doughnut each with a shared soda, before continuing up a steep hill. At the top of the hill, we had to cross a car bridge with no shoulder and that was scary.
Finally, way after dark, we made our way home and created a memory. My grandson and I.