Losing logic

It is odd at first glance that on this year off, where I could go anywhere and do anything that I spent nearly two months in the state I have lived most of my adult life, Colorado. Why not explore new areas, find new favorite hikes and mountain towns? It didn’t really make much logical sense.

But now I know that I needed to be in Colorado to remember how much of a home exists for me there. I needed a reminder that the mountains are a part of me in a way I can’t fully explain. It took coming back to Ohio for my brain to process this because being here for nearly two months is just as illogical.

Again, I could go anywhere, I could do anything, and here I am, the place where I was born. When I was leaving Colorado this summer, I wasn’t sure which direction I was going to move; east or west. I could have continued my nomadic streak and kept camping and exploring towards the Pacific Northwest. There is so much of the country that I would love to explore there. But my heart pulled me east.

I will be honest, coming back to Ohio felt abrupt and uncomfortable for my entire being. It truly has not been a home for me in my adulthood. A different version of myself exists in Ohio. When I return here, I become a younger Jenna in a way. This time it has been interestingly physical. I have been running with ease for the first time in close to ten years. It is as if I have conjured a spell that returned me to my college body.

As good as it feels physically, I can’t say it feels wonderful for the rest of my self. I have worked through a lot in the past few years of my life. I have come out of it more myself than I have ever felt. When I return to Ohio and drop into the past version of myself, I always get thrown for a bit. This feels much heavier to carry than the authentic version I have found.

In a way, I feel like a hermit crab that is trying to sneak back into an old shell. One that I have far outgrown physically. It is painful to squeeze back into a space that no longer serves me. But in ways it is also oddly comforting to know every nook and cranny of this old shell. There is a sense of nostalgia mixed with the unease of it all.

I am at a place in my life where I can honor any and all feeling that flood my body. I will not always enjoy the process, but I know the experience is teaching me. I have learned a lot over the past three weeks of being in Ohio, lessons that I now realize I need to feel.

For some, traveling and camping alone takes more courage than they can muster. For me, staying in one place takes far more effort. It has been a perpetual theme of my life…don’t stay too long. It is one of my favorite coping mechanisms, to run. In that sense, it’s quite comical that the moment I stopped running around the country and planted temporary roots in Ohio, that my body craved the act of running more than I could bear.

It was either run from stability or run to stay stable. This isn’t something I chose consciously. But bringing awareness to these patterns is the first step in transforming them, right!?

Ohio is not a place where I feel at home anymore. The person I have become feels out of place here. The old hermit crab shell can’t contain me anymore. It is giving me two options; keep running away from here so I don’t have to show up authentically or step into my truest self and finally get rid of that old shell.

If I had my choice, I would skip out of Ohio yesterday. And oddly, I do have a choice. I could go anywhere right now, but I feel this pull to stay put. Part of me understands that I have been given an opportunity in the form of time. Time to be in Ohio and meet whatever it is I need to. Time to allow my full self to show up in Ohio rather than past fragments of who I was.

Just like I needed to be in Colorado to feel the connection to the land, I need time to be with Ohio and everything that this state holds for me. They are entirely different experiences but for some reason, I have karma that ties me to both places. I can’t seem to shake either place fully from my being no matter how hard I try.

Growth often requires a level of discomfort. We don’t always grow and expand while happily strolling through life. Sometimes we need to sit in the shit and let our roots be nourished. After nearly a year of this nomadic nature, my bones are a bit weary. I need this home base to recalibrate and recharge in ways.

As much as I love to adventure, I know this time of stability in Ohio is necessary for me. Even if it makes me squirm a bit, I can sense a lot of lessons will happen here. I’m already discovering a lot of nooks and cranny’s within myself that need a little attention. With a solid home base under my feet, I will be able to give those places all the attention they deserve.

I’m not fully sure what the lesson or experience I am trying to convey here is. Perhaps a reminder that sometimes what we choose is anything but logical. That is okay. When we let our heart lead the way, we will often end up in unusual places, but it is usually right where we are meant to be.

Also, it is okay to outgrow spaces. It is normal to feel old versions of yourself resurface when returning to a previous home. Our bodies remember environments on a subconscious level. In these moments, it is so important to cultivate compassion. And to remember that we always have a choice in how we show up, no matter how much feels out of our control.