I have felt recently that I am on the cusp of something new.

Something internal that supersedes the massive external transition we are about to go through with our move.

I could feel it better in Kauai, this something new that sits somewhere in the sacred untapped space of possibility. It’s not something I am as connected to in Anchorage- I returned here with a sense that I no longer belong, yet I still belong, all at the same time. The newness is muddled and dampened and tamped down.

But on that island I could feel something stirring in me, pulling and tugging and longing. Whispering in the lips of the wind… though I couldn’t quite catch what it was always saying.

Growth and internal change is a disorienting process that doesn’t come with directions. Our relationship with our own self is so highly individual, we each have our own map of our personal interiors. And I have found that just when you think you’ve got your map figured out- just when you know north from south, have a sense of where your own cities and towns and home resides, have come to a place of comfortability where you can do life without consulting your map- it all changes.

Slowly and all at once.

An awareness begins to dawn that makes you realize something is shifting inside and your old map of self is no longer accurate. You need to return to the drawing board with your introspection and cartography tools and some gutsy, honest scrutiny so you can start charting a new course.

I’ve been working on a new map these days. Like the explorers of old, I’ve been navigating by the stars and the winds and the currents of what direction feels right. There is a lot that is still unexplored, still uncharted, so much of the map sits bare with question marks and sketchy outlines and vague notions of what may be awaiting discovery.

But I believe in what is waiting out there, calling to me.

This week has been directionless; those whispering winds of last week dying down; I’m stalled in the water, sorta knowing where I’m going, waiting for the stars to shine a little brighter, so I can more clearly see the way. I’m marking and mapping and charting and making it up as I go.

Just like life. Just like all of us.We are all cartographers.

Exploring this place in our own unique ways. Constantly revising the scope of our atlas. Finding the fortitude to sail new seas, learning to be in the uncertainty of not knowing quite which way we are going, but believing in what is waiting out there, calling to us.

Dropping our pins when we find new land, as it to affirm I am here, I am here, I am here.

X marks the space of possibility that exists somewhere between the who we’ve been and the who we’ll be.