As the movers pulled away from our Lowcountry (freshly empty) home Wednesday, it felt like I was watching the scene unfold upon me from outside of myself. It’s still all pretty surreal.
Strangely, I did not feel any attachment to our home of 3 1/2 years; not even to the sanctuary that was our house, which David and I spent many resources remodeling and fine tuning. It is and always will be in a place that doesn’t work for us.
Now, while I sit in an Omaha coffeehouse, it feels so good to be looking forward, having filled myself up with loving friends in Asheville, Cincinnati and Chicago along the way. It’s as if each mile we head North and West, I start coming back into myself, no longer viewing it from a place outside of my own two eyes, heart, and soul. I am becoming whole again, and although it is totally cliche, it is precisely what is happening. I feel like I have a solid footing, which provides me the ability to actually float at the same time.
We have already been treated to harness racing in Lexington, KY, laughing and joy in both Cincy and Chi-town, the most incredible (almost) full moon and sunset winding our way through the amazingly lush Iowan countryside, and now we walk upon the soil that birthed David.
Next, we visit the great Sand Hills of Nebraska, then to Salt Lake City to visit more good friends, then Portland, baby.
We are now among our people, and it feels so good to be back.