Wednesday, November 11, 2009


Today, I took on moving out. For the past 22 months I was blessed with the opportunity to live in the most amazing space, with the most amazing community. Prior to this house the longest I have ever lived anywhere was 10 months since I left home at 18. When I initially came to stay at this magical space, I planned on just staying for a week between tours. At that time in my life, I lived out of a suitcase and a storage unit. When I was not on tour, I figured out a place for myself to discover and stay. I took road-trips, stayed at friends vacation homes, lived in a friend's apartment while she was working on a film on the east coast, back-packed around Costa Rica, and on and on. I lived in motion. So, I planned on this space being the same for me, a temporary stay.

As soon as I requested my stay, the inhabitants of the house were saying, "sure, move in" and started to introduce me as their new roommate. I kept correcting them, promising that I was only staying a week and only bringing a suitcase, but I guess they knew better than I since my stay has lasted 22 months!

This house has been such a space holder for me. I transformed in this house. I made it my own private retreat center. The last time I talked to my father, was about a week after I "officially" moved in and moved out of storage. I was rambling nonstop about how amazing it was and how happy I was to be there. He told me in a voice so proud that he was so happy that I finally had a home. He died unexpectedly the next day and this house is where I came back to heal.

In this house I became a raw food chef. In this house I studied to be a certified yoga instructor. In this house a became a mother to my community. In this house I created the job of "joyologist". In this house I blossomed and became so grateful for every moment, for every color, for every being and now, I am ready to leave this house.

I had planned to move out in the beginning of January as I have booked a one way trip to start in India with no date in mind to return. I was finally headed "home" after visiting family and friends in the midwest directly after tour and realized that I felt like I was returning to a house that I had already moved out of. I had moved out emotionally and mentally, so why not just go ahead and move out physically? I still love the house, the space, and the community I just felt ready for a new space. I felt that I did not need this space anymore.

So, today was the day. I re-collected the bins I had lived out of from my storage unit and proceeded to empty the contents of my closet. I had boxes set up for giveaways, storage, and to live out of until my big one way departure. I thought it was going to be so easy to release at least half of my belongings to give away. Especially since I live out of a suitcase for most of the year on tour. I was WRONG! After stuffing all of my belongings into bins, I had one overflowing box to give away and 6 bins to keep!!!!! I took a break and when I re-entered my room I was disgusted and overwhelmed with the amount of belongings I had decided to keep. So, I chose to go back through all of my "keep" bins and attempt to get rid of half.

I collected an empty box to get ready for the new giveaways and proceeded to dump one bin at a time onto my bed to re-access. I held piece by piece of clothing up in front of myself and I could not believe what came up! One shirt I tried to cling to because I told myself that I looked like a bad-ass when I wore it. There was a pair of jeans that I tried to reason with myself to keep because I had REALLY wanted them and had spent a lot of money on them (no matter I have barely worn them since I purchased them 6 months ago). There was a sweater that I wanted to hold onto because every time I have worn it I have received compliments by guys. A came across another sweater I kept "keeping" because I feel sexy when I wear it, but it is not the sweater that makes me sexy it is who I am being when I wear the sweater. I held up many items and thought, "I love this", but then I thought, is wearing that once a year, the way to show it love. Is storing it in a bin, that I may not come back to for 9 months love?

So many things and ideas about myself came up and then I started to judge myself because I was so attached to these clothes! Then I realized it was not the clothing I was attached to it was who I thought I was when I wore those clothes. It isn't the cute hat I am attached to it's the idea that I am the girl wearing the cute hat when I wear the hat. When I tried to cling to that sweater that has gotten me so many compliments, a little voice came up that said, "I am not my sweater!" I don't know where the voice came from but it was beautiful. Emotions were flying out of me, I was sobbing loudly and proudly as I threw clothes into that giveaway box. I thought to myself, "this is the most amazing thing that I have ever done. This is so beautiful."

Now, I find myself sitting at my new "temporary" home and I feel free. I feel new. I am loving the space I am in, the space I left behind and the space I am carrying with me. I am holding space where ever I am.


  1. Good luck! I am engaging in a spiritual purging of my "space" and it is everything not to judge myself in the process...I think I'll donate a few material things while I'm at it. You've inspired me...

  2. It's cleansing. One of my favorite recognitions is that we hoard, keep, and accumulate stuff only for two reasons - because of the past, some memory, and the future, the idea that we may need it some day. We rarely hang on to things or cling to things because we can use them in the present moment. I always ask myself now "is this something I will use in this moment" to clarify for myself that what I want will show up, I don't have to collect and accumulate things "just in case" or hang on to something that no longer fits me. We are brand new beings with each breath, changing so much within ourselves. It's a blessing to give ourselves an open space to reflect that, to create an environment where we allow "stuff" to flow in and out of without attachment, in the same way breath flows in and out of us freely.

    I love the cleansing process. Our mind-body-spirit extends out into the space we create for ourselves. Our space is an extension of our own soul. I'm happy for you, for this next beautiful step! There's something amazing about venturing out and having a space to call your own.

    Thank you for being a space that mirrors my own! I love stopping by here!

    Love & blessings

  3. i inherited the keeping stuff gene from my mother. i have learned to 'let go' of alot of material things i have owned. they are just things after all. and these things were a tiny speck of who you were being. and the fact that you have chose to be 'free' of a majority of things is wonderful! just think of how many people could look badass in them now. way to go mama! i get alot of the fabric i use from old clothes and stuff. so it is good to get rid of stuff once in a while. good luck on the journey of your life.take care!

  4. I know that feeling...I did the same thing when I moved to Kenya. My friends and the local thrift store were more than happy to receive my old purses, jeans, and shoes. The funny thing is, that since I rid myself of all of the attachments to my material possessions, I have found that I want less...even though I am back in the states.

    Good luck to you on your new journey. Or as we used to say in Kenya "Safari salama, rafiki".

  5. This post is a few days late, but better late than never…

    Tricia, you don’t know me, but I still wanted to tell you my story about wanting to be a writer in hopes that it might help your journey in some way. Or maybe I’m writing this to better understand my own journey…

    I have wanted to be a writer since I was in middle school. The kind of writer that Faulkner was. The kind of writer whose words touch people so deeply that they laugh or cry. I dreamed of winning the Nobel Prize, but I would have settled for a Pulitzer. I never imagined my wedding day, or the home I would own with my husband, or the children we would raise and adore together. I imagined being a famous author.

    I was on the right path: I won journalism awards when I was in high school, and a poetry award which I especially valued, but the university I attended didn’t have a journalism degree and I allowed my college creative writing teacher, who was a published poet, to destroy my spirit. As a matter of fact, I allowed my college experience to destroy my spirit.

    This desire to be a writer has tracked me like a predator tracks its prey. I think I write better than most, but it has always been a struggle. It has never come naturally. Nothing worthwhile ever does, but writing was torture.

    Finally, I quit my job and told myself that I would give myself a year to write to see what would come of it. Thankfully, my decision coincided with house sitting for some friends, so not having to pay rent made things a little easier. It felt like destiny.

    Well, destiny felt like torture. I wrote five or six stories in about six months. They were crap. I made up stories about people I knew nothing about and had them do things I knew nothing about. The stories were well crafted but didn’t contain an ounce of honesty. I had been absolutely positive that I was ready to tell the truth about myself, about those around me, about life, but I actually hated to be alone with my own thoughts. I had thought that by writing I could relieve myself of the burden of some of my experiences, of so many painful memories.

    I tried to publish a couple of stories and got about five or six rejections. After that, I was ready to go back to work and do ANYTHING as long as I didn’t have to write. I had proven to myself, I thought, that this was NOT my destiny and actually let the idea of being a writer go. It was such a relief.

    About three years ago, I fell in love, truly and deeply, after a very long time of not loving anything or anyone. The only way I could express what I felt was to write poetry. My emotions flowed onto the paper naturally. I wasn’t writing for the notoriety or to purge myself of painful memories. I was writing because I had an overwhelming desire to express my love.

    I have chosen to do something other than write to earn my living and somehow that has liberated me from the burden of thinking I had to be a writer. And guess what, now I write almost every day!

    Best wishes.

  6. you just inspired me to go through my things and get ride of some of it. I have way too much junk lying around. I'll be heading to the goodwill with a couple bags later this week.

    many hugs to you Inspiring Tricia <3

  7. beautiful. brought tears to my eyes. blessing for your journey to india and beyond. you are extraordinary. i may stay up all night reading. by the way, the concept of "i am being..." is SO inspiring and creative and just plain awesome! thanks for living out loud tricia.

  8. At the risk of sounding like a broken record, reading your blog has inspired me in many ways. I have to remember that I am not what I own or wear and learn to think a little bit more like you do more often.

    Congratulations on being free, by the way. Don't really feel like wishing you luck, I'll wish you lots of happiness instead. :)