13th August 2021 Mrs Kala Pohl

I loved living in San Francisco.  The mountains, valleys, water, ethnicity, food, politics.  And I thought, how miraculous that my first entry into the U.S. was a place that so closely represented who I am, deep inside.  I made friends easily there, people who shared similar tastes.  Since those were the hey days of my working life, most of my friends were from work.  I was fortunate to work and play with some great people.  Life was good.

Then I moved to Hawaii. It was a time of change in my life.  Of leaving one profession for another.  Of beginning my journey as an artist.  Hawaii was so conducive to that journey.  Visually the place inspired.  I grew as an artist and created new friendships with other artisans.  A whole new world.  I felt that this then was where I was meant to be, doing what I was born to do.  Things felt so right.

Then my father-in-law passed away in Florida.  We knew that soon we would have to move to be closer to my mother-in-law, who was alone.  We were not enamored with Florida.  This move just did not sit right with us, but we did what we had to do for family.  The first few years here, I kept finding fault with everything – it was too flat, too hot, too humid.  I hated the politics.  I couldn’t find good friends.  It just seemed so much harder to establish relationships.  Or was it because I had changed.  I was in a different phase in my life, not satisfied with frivolous and short-term friendships.  I wanted more.  So, this journey was much tougher.  This was also a time of intense spiritual learning for me and at one point, in frustration, I told my husband, “this place is a spiritual wasteland”.  I couldn’t find too many people that I could talk to about spiritual topics.  I often wondered what lessons I was supposed to learn from this move.  We decided when my mother-in-law was gone, we would move back to San Francisco or Hawaii.

17 years later.  My mother-in-law is no more.  My husband is no more.  But this now is home.  I still don’t like the politics.  But it is a favorite place, the best one for all of the experiences in my life.  Even though I can move, I choose not to.  My friendships here are the deepest and purest.  Not just good friends, but family.  People that I love and trust implicitly.  Friends who have helped me grow more spiritually than I could ever imagine.  More importantly, relationships that are full of love, acceptance and giving, devoid of drama and negativity.  I believe Someone up there heard my comment about the “spiritual wasteland” bit and decided to teach me a thing or two.

I have finally figured out that whatever happens, that is what is meant to happen.  It may not make much sense at that moment.  Yet, you are in the right place, at the right time, with the right people, doing the right thing.  What do you think?

My digital painting of an everyday scene, the exquisite bird life, here in Florida.