The Topa Topa Mountains in the Ojai Valley

I’ve been in LA exactly one month today, and I’m leaving. Yep, that’s right. Packing it up, loading the dogs back into the car, and watching the Santa Monica pier fade from view in my rear view mirror. I’m going up to Ojai.

If someone had told me a couple of months ago that I’d get to LA and leave within 30 days I would have called them crazy, and if I had known the things I know now and still come, I’d have called me crazy. But I am and I would have done it anyway. LA has had a pull on me for over 16 years and when I am here, I tend to better fall into and flow in life’s grand design. Instead of feeling stuck in sameness, my life sort of blossoms open and I go along for the ride. People come into my life quicker here, opportunities pop up faster here, things move forward. Life expands.

So when Daisy started her BarkFest in our new apartment, it freaked me out. She’s a social dog, and in Virginia Beach, she’d run down the street stopping at all the neighbor’s front doors to say hi. I’d go to work for 8 to 10 hours a day; the neighbor in our duplex never heard a sound. But being in a small space with no view out the window, no opens spaces to romp and play, and no real people or doggy friends to see, she kind of went nuts. And then I went nuts because I stayed at home with her for the next two weeks, pretty much 24 hours a day, so she wouldn’t disturb our neighbors. I came to live out loud and ended up living house-bound.

We did a week of severe Cesar-style training and my Daisy worked hard and began to fall in line behind me, her Alpha dog. Instead of waking up joyful and bounding to the door to go potty, she’d walk over and stand there waiting for me. Instead of doing the beagle-dance for breakfast and dinner, she’d lie on the kitchen floor and wait to be fed. Instead of spending her days with her head propped up on the window ledge and watching the world go by, she’d bury it under her pillow and sleep the day away. Instead of greeting me at the door like I was absolutely the best friend she would ever, ever, have, excited and running back and forth with her bone in her mouth, she’d look at me, grab her bone and go lay down with her tail wagging. She tried so hard, good dog.

And that’s when we went to Ojai. I’d heard about it from an acquaintance several months before and, like LA, felt a strong connection for a city I’d never seen. I’m from a small town and crave that slower, community feel. But there’s more. It’s surrounded by mountains. It’s artistic and spiritual and outdoorsy. It’s eclectic and quirky. And it sounds a whole lot like the type of place the astrologer described to me almost 3 years ago.

One road trip and one apartment hunting expedition later, I find myself in a totally different yet not so completely unexpected direction from the one I’d spent a year planning. I think I’d have ended up in Ojai eventually, but the Universe says why wait? I asked it to lead me where was best and turned the key. Life revved up its engine, buckled my seat belt, tossed me onto Orange Drive. Then it slammed on the brakes, did a donut in the parking lot, threw on some tunes, rolled back the soft top, hit the gas, and cruised on up the PCH.