Vinny and I went out to our new place yesterday and it was my first time seeing it since we originally went to look at it. We brought the dogs and our first small load with us--and (holy wow) it was just as incredible as I remembered it. I've never seen Louie and Ella so happy to be somewhere. Being "city dogs," I expected them to be reluctant or nervous--nope(!), they act like they've returned to a place they've known and loved forever. Anu, my wolfie, is a country girl. No doubt she'll fit right right back into it. But the ridiculous amounts of happiness in Louie and Ella's eyes and bodies was something to be behold. Zowzers!
A lot like the dogs, I couldn't drink it in deep enough (the smells, the sky, the quiet). I am looking forward to taking daily walks in the vineyard, the habits of undisturbed painting, and stepping outside every morning to the hush of a new world.
God, I am ready for this. The best part is that this relatively unexpected turn of events feels perfectly natural. As we drove home we noted how life can take us in directions that we could never imagine until we get there. Gosh, and I feel weepy as I write this. Not weepy sad...but weepy full of life. Glass half full, glass overflowing sort of full.
Yes, it feels good to be awake and writing. I couldn't sleep because I have a whirlwind of thoughts inside of me trying to find a plan and some sense of organization within me. After returning from "the farm" (it's not a farm, we just like calling it that) I found myself persistently whining to Vinny that I wanted to go back--and when I wasn't whining this thought to him, he was whining it to me. Technically, the place is not ours for another 4-6 weeks, depending on how quickly we get our current place rented out. We've been granted permission to start moving stuff into the garage and to use the garden, but it looks like we'll be in Limbo Land for at least a few more weeks.
Once home, despite the fact that I should be doing nothing else but preparing for a big art fair next weekend, I spent several hours packing and rearranging the house in preparation for stacking boxes. Our current house has hereby taken on a very definate "temporary" feel. The living room is a stack of both empty and full boxes and the dining room is nothing more than a table pushed to the window to make room for even more boxes.
We have an incredible amount of STUFF and this, along with my many work related summer projects, is what kept me up all night. I have no idea how I am going to make everything happen. But I do know that miracles do happen on a regular basis and that it will be worth every single sleepless night.
The house we're moving into is roughly half the size of what we're living in now. I am completely unwilling to take anything with me that no longer serves me. This is a liberating feeling...if only there was more time to focus on it. I laid in bed all night chewing on these muddy, disorganized thoughts...but then I got up and, as I brewed a cup of coffee, it dawned on me that this can look any way I want it to. It's all a matter of perspective, baby.
I might not have a lot of time on my side, but what I do have is the power of intention. I can intend for this to go gracefully, smoothly, quickly. After all, I have only spent a few hours on packing so far and, except for furniture, I have nearly emptied two rooms. Of course, the junk that once inhabited those rooms is mostly in boxes piled in the basement...but who's to say those piles won't go quickly also?
My goal? My goal is to have a massive rummage sale and to have nearly everything except our furniture and clothes moved by the end of June. It makes me nervous not knowing when we have to be out of this house, but I want to be ready when the time comes. I'm perfectly happy to live like I'm camping in this house until we're actually able to legitimately move into the new place.
And I realize that this blog post is probably completely mind numbing to the world at large, but (amazingly) I'm just writing this for myself (guess you'll have to just bare with me). Once upon a time, I used my blog for this kind of writing all the time. I miss that. It feels good to finally be able to let my guard down, to ramble, and to bore my readers to death. It means that my life is finally lacking editable drama--and I like it that way.
These days I feel myself returning to my whole self. I feel myself returning to and moving towards a cumulative power of being. My writing brain is rusty, but the sun has now risen fully. A new stage of the journey...this is always the best part: the beginning.