Back two and half years ago, I was doing exactly what I am doing today. Going back and reading the poignant words as I packed up my big fancy house of broken dreams and faced an utterly uncertain future is an oddly tender feeling. My words evoke the stirrings of those days in my heart… oh yes, I remember… they’re carved and etched in my soul… but now, like everything eventually does, they cary the soft patina of time. It doesn’t hurt anymore… but I remember when it did.

Today, though my movements and cadence match and reflect those of two and a half years ago, the spirit and heart behind them is entirely changed. I closed one of my most wrenching posts:

Goodbye House. Goodbye gleaming hardwood floors. Goodbye white picket fence. Goodbye master bath larger than Little House’s kitchen. Goodbye picket-fenced emerald-velvet grassed yard. Goodbye high ceilings and sunroom Goodbye curving staircase and food-storage room. Goodbye landscape lights and four bathrooms. Goodbye french doors and central air. Goodbye double-hung windows and arched doorways. Goodbye deeply shaded backyard with climbing trees and quail and foxes and deer. Goodbye cul-de-sac where kids could play safely and boys learned to ride their bikes. Goodbye front porch. Goodbye dreams and future I planned. Goodbye “we” and goodbye “us”.

And Hello wide-open future and all that it may contain…

Where I stand today, once again wrapping up my house, is the direct result of the courage the woman who was me took during those dark and uncertain days. I didn’t know what was coming, but I knew what I had to do. I am so grateful that I had that courage, that I moved forward despite the fear and pain, and found the life I now face.

Packing this time, while full of all the annoying hassle of any move, is nothing like last time. Packing this time is mostly peaceful, and mostly alone. I am still culling and pruning- we left the grandiose Big House for Little House, and we are once again moving to a small new townhome- but it’s more than sufficient for our needs, and I know even more clearly now what is a need and what is just…stuff. We are moving this time not with broken, bound and wounded wings, but with intent and excitement for what the future holds. This is a dream I never could have seen from where I once stood. All I had was faith that there must be something… somewhere… for us to land.

As I wrap my favorite things in plain brown paper and carefully label the boxes, I do so with an air of peace tinged with excitement. There is thoughtful selection, and a growing pile of things yard-sale destined. It feels… good. It feels right. The pieces are showing up as I need them, and after all I can do, the difference is being made up.

I’ll be live-blogging more and more of the move, and will be documenting more this process. Reading over the past, I realize, even if just for my children and myself, showing the trajectory of growth and marking the miles allows us to see the hand of the divine at work in ways we might miss if we weren’t looking. So keep trucking along with us. It’s not a dare, God, so help me– but I’m kind of excited about what ever is next.

p.s. My thesis was accepted and my advisor, after congratulating me on GW again, said “See you at graduation!” I stood in the lobby of his office for a few seconds with an huge smile, staring off into space- it’s really happening. It really is.  Who would have ever known how amazing all this could be?