I’m sitting on my steps typing this. There is no free chair or perch left in my studio.
I’m packing. Going through a decade of things. So much accumulates. Around. In. A space and a heart.
I’m going to miss my mountains, my life here, my loved ones. I’m a deep rooted gal. It took a lot of rain and a lot of wind and a lot of gentle prodding & some outright hard knocks too -to loosen me up towards moving on.
I’m taking a pause after inventory assessing and 1000s of inspiration clipping wranglings to breathe a minute. Laugh at myself & my stuff. Grieve a bit too. I love this house. I love this place. I’v been blessed in my life to leave people and places while still in love with them instead of itching to get away. That’s a blessing. I am blessed.
I hope to come back one day to my Pumpkin Hill. I hope there will still be some tenacious grape hyacinths in the garden, friends with wrinkles from laughing and Blue Ridge Mountain sunsets so beautiful they sing out to God.
But for now – I’ve just started packing. Just started staring sparkle-eyed towards adventure – and repeating to myself my new mantra from my dear kind LMay -as I stare around at the exploded piles of my stuff:
*You are always more important than what you carry*
Hopefully it’ll remind me to keep my bags light and my spirit up.
Woman, I have tears in my eyes as I read this. Beautiful this. Beautiful you. Beautiful journey. I’m so thrilled and excited for you. (Where are you headed??). This: “I hope there will still be some tenacious grape hyacinths in the garden, friends with wrinkles from laughing and Blue Ridge Mountain sunsets so beautiful they sing out to God.” Yes, yes, yes. Sweet lady, enjoy the journey.