I recently experienced an intentional and major life transition. With a daughter fully grown and in college and a lifelong desire to be by the sea, I sold all of my belongings and moved to the ocean. I had thirty-eight years under my belt of striving to provide for my family, enjoying a long career in the arts field, and a wonderful tribe of friends yet I was yearning for something different.
I didn’t fully realize what that different was until I made the change and have since come to understand that “active participation” is what I was seeking.
Without a lot of possessions to maintain other than the essentials of clothing, art supplies, a computer and food and a bare minimum of bills to eat through my pocketbook, I started to actually have time to live in the present moment again.
On my daily morning walks to and from the water at seven a.m. when society is slowly opening its eyes, I’ve enjoyed noticing a myriad of small things.
Like the multitude of messages that graffiti artists randomly carve into wall, wood and stone so that uncensored voices can be heard everywhere.
Like the silent presence of old trees, reminding us of their strength and durability through instances of exposed and gnarled roots.
Like the beauty of men and women of all ages when they are freshly spewed from the waves early morn, peeling off wetsuits, ringing out water beads, flesh tender from the exertion of wrestling with the mighty sea.
Like the way the people who live on the streets leave random bits of clothing on sidewalks, hanging over walls or in the middle of an avenue so that I am left reveling in the mystery of why those who have so little would discard things so hastily.
I don’t have television anymore instead choosing to read, write, make and talk to people I meet in the grocery stores, on the internet, in the post office lines, and at the cafes.
I rarely buy anything unless its something I absolutely need. I hardly drive my car anymore unless I am forced off my bike or feet by the need to travel somewhere distant to see close friends and family.
This life that has become far more unencumbered feeds me riches far greater than the race for the dollar bill ever did and I fill my hours with extreme care choosing to fill them with authentic things that remind me that our presence here is fleeting.
With all of this has come a consciousness that we are not here on this earth very long and while we are, we have the responsibility to make our moments matter. Life truly is our greatest form of art and the possibilities are endless as to what gorgeous colors and content we can build upon the individual canvas of our ego and our identity.
To this end, I am committed to filling Newtopia’s monthly issues with articles that showcase others who are working in their own small ways towards living life to the fullest, engaging with the people around them in ways that fortify the spirit, paving progressive inroads towards making the world a better place, uncovering new ideas for the future, celebrating pioneers and renegade souls of the past, and cherishing the fruition that comes from active participation and transformational action.
A truly realized life is one in which our plates are equally full with a well balanced allotment of mental, spiritual, intellectual, emotional and physical health. I hope to provide an arena here where tools towards the betterment of each can be found on a regular basis.
Although we will be publishing a regular issue each month on the 15th, we will also be posting articles and updates throughout the month. Please subscribe to our site from the home page or Like us on Facebook to receive regular updates of all current posts.
Thank you for reading!
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