As my world was crumbling down around me and I knew I had to make a change, I began to grieve the losses.  I couldn’t hold on any longer to what was falling apart.  I had to face the reality unfolding in front of me and let go of trying to breathe life into something that was dying.

The old life was beginning to fall away and I had to let it go.  I had to begin putting my eyes on the future possibilities; what wanted to come into being.

You see, I believe life has a plan for us, but we don’t always know the plan.  We fear letting go of the old because it is what was safe and familiar.  We built our comfort zone around the old.  Letting go of “what was” means stepping out into the abyss, not knowing what is next.  Although I was beginning to see a rough outline, I still didn’t know how it was all going to unfold.

Today, was the day it became real that I was going to be leaving my home of ten years.  I called the key people involved in the sale of the house, and talked to the two women who made me caretaker of the Grandmother drum sitting in my music studio.  We would be having our last drum circle on the Spring Equinox.  What a way to say goodbye!

The spring is always a powerful energy for me.  There is a lot of momentum.  Ideas and inspiration begin to sprout forth and what no longer serves, the me that is moving forward, is left behind.  It is bittersweet.

Co-mingling with the excitement of the journey ahead, there was a fear that I would never be able to afford a home again, because prices were rising so fast, beyond so many people’s control.  So many people are choosing van life, or RV life because they don’t want to pay the money required to live in a home.  There is a new culture of houseless people.  We invest in wheel estate.  We live tiny.  Minimalistic.  It is a life some people say they would never trade for a sticks and bricks house again.

I look at my beloved cat Nala curled up napping on my bed and a great sadness comes over me.  She is really my neighbors cat, but he leaves for work during the week and doesn’t come home until the weekends.  He asked me to look after her and I did gladly.  She adopted me and hardly ever went to my neighbors home when he was there anymore.  I didn’t know what would become of her.  I couldn’t take her with me.  She would be miserable.  Here, she had two homes that were her domain and she loves being outdoors.  I texted my neighbor today as well, and told him the news.  My heart aches for Nala.

There is a lot to grieve.  And so I imagine, like times before, the grief would dance in the same place as the joy and excitement of a new adventure.  Sometimes I would relish in the passion of a new creation and other times I would cry deep, soulful, tears for what I was leaving behind.

I have crossed the threshold, the point of no return.  The choice has been made and spoken aloud.  My world will never be the same.