I Want A Place

I get a newsletter from the Abbey of the Arts. This week's edition has rekindled thoughts of crossing new thresholds. I got off track in my writing about thresholds. I failed to see anything, anyone or anywhere new on the horizon. Could it be that even though I fail to see it, there is still change afoot?

Sweetie and I are coming closer and closer to saying "yes" to the task of selling this house and moving.
Talk about new thresholds. Do you remember playing Mother May I when you were a kid? To sell the house I grew up in and came back to is like asking, "Mother May I take a giant step into the big unknown." Only I'm not asking anyone for permission and no one is giving me a new set of "orders" like the Navy did for 20 years. This time If  when I move, it will be because the time has come to let go
of the hold the past has on me.

Decision making does not come easy for me. Even as I cried and fought most every move I ever made, I knew deep down inside that it was easier to let someone else make the decision. I guess it's easier to complain about something if I'm the follower, not the leader.

I may still change my mind a kazillion times before any definitive step is taken. But each time I get closer to where I want to be - in a place I can call home. A cabin in the woods? A motorhome traveling down Rt. 66? A retirement community? Washington? Tennessee? Georgia? Jacksonville? Or someplace I've never even dreamed of?

I want a place with less stuff and more joy.
I want a place that holds memories and no ghosts roam.
I want a place where the door is always open to new friends and old.
I want a place where my family gathers and love is all that's spoken.
I want a place where "the implements of the kitchen and barn are every bit as holy as the plate and chalice on the altar."*
I want to hear birds sing outside my window.
I want to a place to grow old without fear.
I want a room with a view where I can write letters and make bears.
I want a porch with a rocking chair.
I want a place where laughter abides.
I want to go to bed at night and lie next to my Sweetie and look forward to tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

Am I asking for too much?
Does such a place exist?
Do I have to move to find these things?
Time will tell.
Merry ME


*Hilary Lohrman
 {Abbey of the Arts} Love as a Holy Direction: Love - Pilgrimage of Resurrection through Creative Practice.




Comments

Debbie said…
You are getting ready for the next chapter...wishing you joy and happiness!
May 12, 2015 at 7:53 AM
Anonymous said…
THE MOTOR HOME EXCITES ME
May 14, 2015 at 6:32 PM
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