“One does not discover new lands without consenting
to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.” ~ André Gide
And so it begins … what will eventually become a 35,000 mile, coast-to-coast, 5-year long meander across the country. Today, April 4, 2015, I suppose you could say I have officially stepped onto the magic carpet that will take me to people and to places unfamiliar, and change just about everything in my life as I’ve known it so far.
Today, my home is officially for sale.
It was a place I’d joyously moved into just 20 short months ago; a lovely little mobile that offered me inexpensive shelter from the cold winters and sticky summers. A home where I hung laundry, fed hundreds of birds, and sat summer nights by glowing campfires, gazing at the thousands of stars that lit the night sky. A quiet refuge from the world. It was a place I needed, as life had presented a number of painful and difficult challenges in the several years before I moved, and my head was spinning by the time I arrived. It has served me well, offering hours of quiet and solitude at the end of a busy day. Those 20 months of quiet allowed me to heal, and learn the deep lessons the years before had brought. Now, however, it is time to move on. And to move on in a way that will, in all likelihood, challenge me far more than I’ve ever been challenged before … but will also, without question, reward me in more ways than I can even begin to imagine.
So, now the work begins in ernest. There is much to do in the short few months that lie ahead … there is the cleaning, the sorting, the purging, the shredding, the selling and tossing away. The decisions. The calculation of finances and discussions of “just in case” scenarios with friends. The choosing of what must go – and where it goes – and what will come with me … as all that will, must fit neatly into a 2006 Subaru Forester. To pack 60 years of one’s life into less than 50 cubic feet is both incredibly daunting and extremely liberating. I am grateful for the memories I will carry with me as I go.
Next Sunday, I will turn 60 years old. And on that day, a potential buyer will be coming to look at the home … my biggest wish, my hopeful hope, as I blow out the candles on a life past, is that I may step into a new year with not only with joy and excited anticipation in my heart, but also a signed agreement sitting sweetly next to a chocolate cake, and a glass of champagne. Wish me luck.