Early morning. I’m usually reading through my Substack draft for the week. One last edit. A week’s worth of thought and musing. This week it’s all about reaching and letting go. But no drafts today. The days have been less about writing and more about about boxes, movers, sorting, and goodbyes. So, today is a “can I fit in a post before I start the perpetual to-do list?”
Last night was the last night – the last night in this house. Today we move to a hotel, while the moving company continues to pack us up for the great California relocation adventure. On Friday and Saturday, we’ll clean. A last walk through, with whispered farewells and thank you’s to and for this house. Monday brings a paper signing ceremony to let go of this beautiful home. Then, another paper signing ceremony for a house that waits for us in California. Closings and openings. Even Mickey, the dog, knows that something big is going on and shadows me more than usual.
This little pod of us will arrive in the new place on July 1. We will unpack boxes and drink cold tea. Wave at new neighbors and strike up new conversations. Eventually, all of the boxes that carted us from one place to the other, will be flattened and find their way to recycling. Eventually there will be fresh flowers on a kitchen table, a cup of morning tea, and a journal lying in front of me.
One chapter ends. Another begins. Reaching and letting go continue ‘til the very end. Cycles of birth and death within the human spirit pull all of us forward in a time that only goes one direction. On that horizon, eternity lingers, and a last night waits for me there, too. Since we will all die one day, I contemplate the question, how then shall I live and love my life? I’m grateful to be young enough for a new adventure and old enough to dig for the wisdom that accompanies change.
A dream came to me: There were three snake holes in my back yard. From each, a snake struggled. The sides of the earthen hole helped the snake to shed its skin. In new skin, the three snakes, moved gracefully across the yard toward “what’s next?”
Gratitude to the readers who find their way here; who share their stories with me. Gratitude for this community of creatives, constantly shedding and finding new skin. May the grit of endings and letting go open us to an ever present awe of creation and creating. May we all know the grace of reaching for the dreams and visions that light us up.
The next post will come from California. Until then, I raise my voice in praise of joyful chaos, singing while I pack suitcases. All good wishes and goodwill. Thank you for your presence . . .
~Stephanie
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