In Transit

I grew up on Transit Street. Being “in Transit” refers to states of change and still reminds me of this small northern RI city street.

I’m missing my old home at Coakley Bay today. I always have a somewhat difficult time with change, as many of us do, but I also find times of change reflective and a learning experience like everything else. In fact, the recent changes of moving have brought back memories of “movings-past”. Perhaps these ghosts of the past, present and future are paying me a visit, as I remember and feel with amazing intensity, things I once had, left, felt and hoped for as I left one living situation for another, and one chapter of my life for a fresh new one. I have moved into a new home, and a home that for the time being feels unfamiliar to me, as though I have stepped into someone else’s life and home, and it is not yet close to being or feeling like mine. Aside from that, I am house-sitting for friends, in also a lovely home and situation, but I cannot help but feel slightly displaced and unsettled, which makes for overall uneasiness.

I am a Cancer. In spite of rumors this year that all of our horoscopes were incorrect and the actual sign we were born under was something different than what we had come to know for years, I still believe that is the sign I was born under, and I epitomize a Cancerian in so many ways. One great example is that of the domestic Cancerian, we tend to be very particular about our space, homes and living arrangements. So this current transition is taking a toll on me, as they always do, but, also like they always do, things will smooth and work out as they are meant to.

Coakley Bay was familiar, comfortable, and yet another place that was my chrysalis, as I crawled in a complacent, slightly broken down caterpillar and emerged a butterfly, spreading my wings once again. I have so many significant memories of that place, both good and bad. Memories that changed the course of my year, new year and life. Coakley became my sanctuary, it felt like home. Beautiful mornings spent having coffee on the porch, overlooking the beautiful ocean with neighboring islands in the distance. Sunsets that painted the skies the most incredible hues, which would stretch like fiery bands across the sky, slowly fading into paler shades as the sun disappeared to the west. Late afternoons at the pool, nights staying up too late on the porch, talking, drinking wine, singing along to friends playing guitar, disco party dancing (I am still not sure how we escaped a complaint from our neighbors that night). I found myself again at Coakley, fell in love at Coakley, and learned a lot about myself and other people there. That said, moving into Coakley was a transition too, which was not always easy, but I knew was for the best. Once again, all the changes I am making in my life are for the better, moving and pushing forward, en route to something bigger and ultimately better. It is all about the journey, not the destination.

This journey? Doesn’t suck. The destination? In the works, still to be determined.


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