I’m not even sure how I came to this position on my journey in life. Whether I was placed here due to the fallout from pandemic disruptions, or if I would have wound up arriving to this same spot, anyway. In any case, I am on the verge of moving to a different city, in a different state, one where I have no relatives, no friends, no job, and I am considering the fact that I will indeed be starting over – establishing a new home, a new community, an entirely new life.
The idea of this move is both exciting and terrifying at the same time. On the one hand, there is potential to better my situation in many ways – perhaps I’ll be able to find a living situation with more space. Perhaps I’ll be able to create a daily routine that doesn’t require moving at such a fast pace as what New York City demands. Perhaps I’ll be able to create an income that will stretch further in a smaller sized city.
But with every big unknown, there is potential for both pleasant and unpleasant surprises. And although I have eagerly jumped into adventures in the past full of youthful optimism, at the age of 53, I’ve lost those rose-colored glasses. And so I also worry. Will I be able to re-create enough work in a new place? Will I even like the new city and its citizens?
So often, I look to ancient yoga texts to find some perspective and words of wisdom. And although I don’t have a specific story, the symbol of Nataraja is a perfect representation for times when you feel like you are starting over.