The Fender Stratocaster.
Classic. Iconic. Legendary.
Is this my guitar? No, it is not. And it doesn't belong to anyone I know... well, not exactly. It doesn't belong to anyone I know... any longer. I still know the person. But the axe? It's on its own journey now.
So, why does my new blog begin with an image of this guitar?
Mostly because it reminds me of the previous owner, one of my best friends. And the period in the History of Me in which we came to know one another. And where life has taken us. Each of us a thousand miles away- in different directions- from the place we met. From the neighborhood where we once lived, just a few blocks apart. From the walks to the grocery store and the coffee shop.
Now, we are each on our own All New Adventures.
To begin an All New Adventure in life often means Change. Big "C" Change. Otherwise, you'll just keep doing what you always did and going along as you always do, getting where you always go.
There is nothing wrong with this.
But, if you're going to venture off into the world of All New Adventuring and big "C" Change... sacrifices will be made. There is letting go. There is taking in. Energies are exchanged as you, yourself, Change. And when you change--- everything that you touch in life, every relationship you have--- will, most likely, experience some kind of change as well.
A guitar might not seem like a symbol for change. But this guitar represents just such an exchange of energy... the energy that it took to get from Point A (in this case, Riverside in Jacksonville, Florida) to Point B (in this case, the Lower East Side in New York, New York).
It started when my good friend, the owner of this beautiful bit of wood and plastic and metal and genius, decided he was ready to strike out in the direction of his dreams. To relocate to the city he loved more than any other in the world... New York.
He didn't really know anyone there.
But he knew enough.
More than enough.
And that Enough-ness was too much to contain within the life he was living at the time.
I could tell you that story - maybe another time - the salient point is this: When he finally made that choice and took even the smallest of steps in the direction of those dreams, things began to happen. Magical things.
One of the choices he made was to sell this guitar.
It had sentimental value. And not to him alone... to others close to him. But memories, dear and wonderful, can be held in the heart forever. To live in the moment, to follow one's dreams, one must take stock of what can be sacrificed in honor of a greater mission, a date with destiny, to the pursuit of an All New Adventure.
In truth, selling this Strat was more than selling a guitar. Even an iconic guitar. It was symbolic of something far bigger... the Big "C" Change that was going on deep within.
My Fender Stratocaster turned out to be less of a Thing and more of an elusive concept that was associated with an identity I had been busy building for myself. Was it the identity of my dreams... the identity I was born to inhabit? As it turns out, I think not. It was more a cover, a Secret Identity created to hide my True Identity.
It did a good job, that Secret Identity. It helped me get through some difficult times. And we had some fun together, too. I used it as a means to grow and learn and read and think and ponder and deal with things that needed to be dealt with. Sometimes, not very gracefully... but dealt with, nonetheless.
As I mentioned earlier, if you want to have All New Adventures, you might be called upon to sacrifice something. And though I'm not going to tell you about that in detail now, either, what I will say is that what I gave up was- to me- like letting go of a life raft in a storm on a tumultuous sea. I gave up my Secret Identity.
Good-bye, Sanity!
Good-bye, Fear-based Self-preservation Instinct!
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye, Story I Told Myself.
To be honest, this was not a one-step process. It happened over years. Letting go can be like that for some people. It doesn't have to be like that. Nope. Not at all. But it isn't unusual for it to take long time, either. That's just how it was for me. So, the letting go happened and happened again, and happened again... and it may be happening still.
But at this point in the All New Adventure, I feel like planting a flag to mark my arrival. To say, "Yep, I'm pretty darn sure, I'm on the All New Adventure of Me." It is this little blog.
And so it begins...
The All New Adventures of Me... Destiny Girl.
