moving to the light…
July 31, 2010
It was a dark time, a very dark time, so I made a cave. It had fires and warm blankets, comfort food and a place to hibernate, to talk, to cry, to struggle safely, to heal. The only problem is when spring comes, it’s time to go out, to feel the sun light on your face, to believe in new hope, to take in all that is before you. The cave gave us all she had but it was time to go.
We looked high and low for a new house, a grown up house if you will, with charm AND function. For so long I was the girl who could make anything work and turn nothing into something, it was (and still is) my superpower but somewhere along the way I started to tell myself a story that was all there was for me and all I would ever need. I have to admit, after all the cave dwelling, I needed and wanted things to be easier, I started to want even the things that other people wanted like diswashers and working washers/dryers, a pantry and a new bathroom. All of it felt okay, to need, to want, to invite abundance in.
In the midst of all the looking, a dear friend suggested a house of a mutual acquaintance, a home, not a rental, a rad family moving to their next new adventure. I was reluctant, thinking about how four kids really live in a house but she insisted. As soon as we stepped in the door I knew, I could feel all the house held, all the love that existed from this sweet family, it was a move into the light…it is the kindness house.
There were more hurdles to make it happen, exhausting, draining hurdles but it all started to wash away when we got to the big green house. My desire to have everything just so went into overdrive, so I started writing notes to myself on the little blackboard on my porch. Every box carried through the door came with the reminder that all would be done in just the right time. I decided to leave it there and write a new message every week because sometimes you just need to tell yourself exactly what you need to hear. You don’t have to wait for it, you can give that gift to yourself.
…and you feel so full to know how you have been carried and held, and overwhelmed by your own story… by the way at every turn something new awaits you to show you even more.