Transition

Seven years and three months ago Steve and I needed a place to call home.  Our ideal situation wasn't presenting itself, and we settled into our little apartment with our 9 month old Emelia and two dogs.  This was purely a transitional home, no intention of settling in too deep.  It was here that Eli and Willow were both brought into this world.  It was here that we experienced so many firsts.  They took their first steps, spoke their first words, embraced us with their endless hugs.  It was here that Steve and Emelia planted our weeping birch, it was here that we cultivated life in so many forms.   Our ever changing gardens and greenhouse, discovering the wild food that grew right here in our suburban yard.  It was here that our children have learned the power of teaching others.  We have witnessed as they have brought neighborhood children into our yard to ravage the garden and hunt for wild edibles. And yes, it was here that I comforted the parents of those same children as the concern arose that their children were, *gasp* eating food from the yard!

We grew here, we dreamed here, we created a sanctuary on a piece of land that needed the peace as much as we needed to learn to be present on it.  When all is said and done, I've grown to love this little apartment, surrounded by people from all sorts of walks of life.  But as I said before, this was intended as a transitional home from the get-go.  We knew that there was still a great deal of movement that had to take place in our lives before we settled down for the long haul.  As we close out a seven year cycle in our sweet little town in this very big, little Ocean State, we prepare for our next transition.
What does that transition look like?  We are learning that with every moment.  We are fully embraced by God, Spirit, The Universe.  We have utmost faith that with prayer and conscious action, we are being and will continued to be guided in every step that we take.
What does that transition look like right now?  A Mama sitting in a dark room, with a laptop propped in an empty bookcase (that Eli cleared himself  as one last ditch effort before bed).  This mama is surrounded by sealed boxes, empty shelves and cabinets, stealing a moment of peace before the world awakens and the flurry of activity begins again.
What does the future appear to hold for us?  Well, we have a family transitioning our home to theirs on the first of the month.  We hope to be on the road around that time.  We are loading up the dogs and the children and heading west.  Over the course of the next couple of years we are educating ourselves, with out enrolling in a University.  Sort of an adult version of homeschooling.  Our long time dream is to open a retreat center.  Our focus is to visit centers throughout the country to witness, and participate in their mission.  To learn, to grow.  We will develop our nutritional awareness, deepen our spiritual center, and ground into our physical bodies.
Our first destination is the Tree of Life Rejuvenation Center in Arizona.  This center lines up with so many of our values, exuding health, spirit and community.  We will take our turn in the kitchen there, refining our chef skills.  We look forward to joining the community in their meditation, yoga and worship services. We are excited to explore all schooling options, and to embrace a new community of individuals on a path of health and spirituality.
Yes, we have an amazing family that will host us as we settle in.  And Yes, my in-laws are conveniently settling in to their new home just north of where we are headed.  Is this comforting?  Absolutely.
Do we have any idea how long we will be there?  Or where we will go next?
A short answer would be, no, not at all.


We are following our hearts, following the illuminated path that we know is there for all of us, no matter how dimly lit it may seem at times, no matter what higher power, we connect with.  The answer is there for us all, we just need to open our hearts and listen.  The more space we create to listen to that inner guide, the brighter the path becomes.
The room I sit in has become bright, birds are chirping, pitter-pattering of footsteps, I can now see the chaos around me.  Little arms embrace my neck.  Time to start my day.