Yea, that sounds like a popular song. Yet its true.
I thought I had it all figured out: this move to a new life needed to be put on hold with a temporary shelter--ya know, til the "right one" comes along. Which I believe will happen soon. There is a place for us, and it is just not ready.
The road to this moment... oh my God. It's been intense and emotional and miraculous. Five years of giving up and giving in and creating out of nothing and watching the miracles--one after another--unfold: Jim's return from the brink of brain and heart blastoffs. Our finding a home in a new hometown. My finding my power in successfully running a home office--even after regular income from Jim's disability checks stopped coming. Jim's healing. Our health. I've loved it here.
And Jim not only senses this, but knows it deeply: This is a place that was made for us as we navigated the last few years. And now it's about to come to an end, and my honey is playing the Hail Mary move with last minute negotiations with the landlady.
On the other hand, I am ready to move on to temporary shelter because I know that our long term home is simply not ready yet. And we need to live somewhere: so why not temporary digs in a modest apartment with low rent and utilities ? It does make sense, and this is what we may do. But in this moment, I get it--the man wants me to have the office I love in the home I love for as long as we possibly can.
And for that, I have tears of gratitude. It's been a lovely, safe place to see clients, attend to their needs, write, dream, heal. Then there's the red couch in the living room, and the meals and conversations we've shared there, and....
Thank you, dear space.
One more week of work here, and then we move to....??????
Love, Elke
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