“Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant.”
~ Robert Louis Stevenson
I would like to say that I have been hibernating this winter but instead I have been un-settling. In a way it has been an inward journey of digging deep into the past, releasing all that no longer serves, and honoring all the gifts that have come my way over the years. In truth, I am moving out of my home of 35 years, downsizing into a condominium in the middle of town.
I had no idea what an enormous task this would be.
In order to live a conscious life, I must be realistic about my own aging. Maintaining a large house and acting as an earth keeper for the land has been a glorious endeavor. The workshops, weddings, parties and guests we have hosted offered me a well-connected life of service.
Now I must let go.
I have danced my last dance on the labyrinth I built so long ago. I have kissed the trees that were here when I arrived and the trees that I planted that have grown to be strong and beautiful. I won’t be here to enjoy the blue mist spirea blooming in July, but I know someone else will have that pleasure.
Spring is a wonderful time to set out on new adventures. My husband and I am moving into a co-housing community. We will have to dust off our skills of living close-in. After the chaos of sorting, boxing and tossing, I look forward to developing new friendships and walking our dog Jude in the city parks that surround us. I have a bus pass for the first time. Surely, by summer, I will master of routes around town.
Change always creates a bit of chaos. I look forward to settling into our new home in gratitude that we are now stepping into a new chapter of life.
Once my ancestor altar is in place, under the light of the full “pink” moon on April 29th, I will create and burn an ayni despacho, an offering to the earth. This is a time to witness the migration of the birds who will soon nest and lay their eggs. This is a time of trust and surrender.
I hope you will join me in celebrating this rite of passage.