Ride the leprechaun's rainbow

This week was intense, more intense than expected, but as I sit and write this blog, birds chirping, trains running by on the tracks outside the apartment of my friend's place where I am staying; I feel a sense of calm that comes from knowing there's so much more to come on this journey. I've always dealt with seismic shifts in my life by running away, never running towards. I think back to my time in New Zealand in my early twenties, when I was with the love of my life, us both trying to find our path, somehow together and apart, in a brand new country that was good and fair to us in so many ways: good friends, fun work (could've paid better), each other's company. Yet it was clear we had slowly diverged and over time, I felt the gnawing teeth at the back of my neck telling me it was time to cut and run. I look back on the day I left her, and remember the intensity of that moment, so hard to push out the finality of what needed to be said, and then the relief and the subsequent rush…