I would love to write about something else, but I made a promise to myself to be honest in these blogs even if they expose my vulnerability. I got the papers today to prepare for closing on my house in New York in one week. It was a busy day searching for old documents, getting my signature notarized and rushing to Fed Ex for overnight delivery. The busy work couldn’t hide my grief over the finality of not having that house anymore. I loved my home. I loved making it mine with a gallery for my sculptures and an organic garden that gave me so much pleasure. It was so abundant that I gave vegetables to the gardener, the UPS man, and anyone who paused for a moment on the street. That house was a loyal and beloved friend, a transition from a former life of restriction to one where my spirit grew.
But, it was time to move on. What makes me feel most alive is learning, transforming, being flexible and inquisitive. For me, whatever is transformative is enlivening. My time in that house was over. I was treading water, not growing. What is so very hard is that when you move on, you leave people and things that you love. It was a life that worked at the time, but doesn’t feed me anymore. So, I bless the new people and hope that their time there will be filled with love, family, prosperity and, if they choose it, growth and transformation.
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