Florida to the Rescue
When it snowed for the first time in Chicago a few days ago, I got all nostalgic for the summer and scrolled through my picture feed. There it was - the Atlantic ocean, a perfect shade of blue and the right amount of stormy. All the memories from my past trips to Miami that ended up being just on the edge of too much and not quite enough without any permission set up camp in my head.
Do you ever go back to a city only to realize how much you have changed? I went to Miami in June and August, which isn’t usually what I do. I try to travel to different places, or at least fit in a trip somewhere else before returning to the same spot. Both trips were completely spontaneous and unplanned, but the significance and the impact they both left was enormous. I travel to relax and take the stress off, not to change. Miami doesn’t really ask you what you want. It has other plans for you.
When I say that Miami saved me, I am exaggerating, but only a tiny bit. This summer it became the city that gave me tough love, kicked my butt, burnt my skin, made me look at my relationship with clear eyes, pushed me out of comfort zone, inspired to write a book, and then finally hugged and comforted me in its salty blue body of water.
The first trip was a complete disaster, like a tsunami that crushes everything on its way only to rebuild better and for you to stand stronger. My friend Yessica called me one morning and said: “Why don’t we go to Miami?” While still on the phone I booked our flight. 24 hours later we were on the beach making sand angels and practicing yoga (it’s almost impossible to hold poses!) Then the sun decided to play a tattoo artist and put hundreds of little freckles on my shoulders, followed by what looked like a second degree burn and left me with no ability to give high fives for two weeks. Then there were hours in a pool as the last place where you wouldn’t feel pain, keys locked in the trunk of a car, missed tours, sleepwalking and finally the last night of fun and the most beautiful sunrise that was worth all the struggles.
In 72 hour decisions were made and directions changed. Two weeks later I was unpacking at my house with no idea how to cope with all the baggage that came along with my luggage. The moral of the story is as follows: let things work themselves out. At this very moment it might seem like the painful situation you are in is a curse and you don't deserve any of it. But wait a little. Let the Universe work its magic. We don't have the capability to look into the future, and what we are feeling right now stops us from seeing the big picture. Look back and remember your hardest times. I bet that they were the really important turning points that brought you to where you are today. So chill, breathe and look forward to major changes. It is, indeed, always darkest before the dawn.