–This is the first installment of looking back at my Las Vegas journey.–
The first moving company representative arrived at my apartment this morning to do an estimate. Two years ago, the scene was much the same–a few boxes laying around, moving supplies filling up a room, and a lot of wondering about what the future holds. There’s an addictive quality to moving for some… knowing when you land in one spot, it’s not forever, and that horizons and destinations and plans change. Kind of like living on the beach–if you don’t like the weather, give it five minutes, it will change. But I am a very different person than the girl who was packing boxes two years ago. I have survived–and thrived–in Las Vegas, on my own. And I wouldn’t trade a minute of it.
Over the span of the next couple of weeks, I’m going to look back at my journey in Las Vegas. Mainly so I can always have a record for myself, but hopefully in an effort to inspire some of you to make that change you so desperately want. Whether its losing weight, changing jobs, moving across the country–you can do it. And now, I can say those are more than empty words–the words come from experience from having done it myself.
So, what was it like, and what did it take to live two years away from my best friends, to go to baseball games by myself, to go to the gym alone, to never have had one visitor from Las Vegas walk in my apartment? It was lonely. But I’m convinced being alone builds character–because it forces you to eliminate all distractions, and listen to that voice. The one inside yourself that can be drowned out by so much as a bird tweet or a passing car. I’m talking REAL one on one time.
I think this point was made clear to me when my friend Bill came to town for a wedding. He’s one of my best friends, and I love his family, and they were all in town at the Wynn. We had a great time, but before I knew it, the night was over. And when your closest friends come to town–while they’re lost in the doing, you’re enjoying the “being.” Being comfortable with someone, even for a couple of hours. Seeing a familiar face. Hugging someone and feeling that connection of home all wrapped up in one moment that passes quickly to them, but gives you ammunition to move forward for another week, month or year.
As I said my goodbyes to Bill and his family, it was like walking out of the family room at Christmas. That one time really stuck with me, because as I was walking out to my car alone, I saw this sign:
And that really hit home. Self park. My entire Las Vegas experience can be summed up in those two words. Self Park. It was time to park my mind and body alone for two years–to see who I really was, to learn all I could, and to achieve goals with no distractions. I wouldn’t change a minute of it, and I’m sure I’ll miss it during certain times ahead.
Over the next couple of weeks, I’ll write several entries telling you what I learned–and what I was taught while I “self-parked.” I hope you enjoy.
