Moving was not something I was seeking out. It came to me in the form of a picnic on a sunny Saturday with a friend. There it was. An opportunity for change.
I've lived in my perfect little apartment for two years. I found myself there. This was a place where I worked hard figuring out what I wanted and, more importantly, who I wanted to be. It gave me space to grow and it inspired me to find my passions. I started really writing in this space. I opened myself up to the world with my words and the apartment was always a happy home for my writing muse.
I proved that I could take care of myself. Just me. My bills. My kitchen. My life. No one had to help me. No one could tell me what to do.
Let me tell you, that is one of the most liberating feelings in the whole world. I can do it. If everything else falls to total shit, I now have real proof that I can, in fact, completely take care of myself.
Life changes. You fall in love and it beckons out your adventurous side. It challenges you to spend most of your free time out in the world rather than in your sanctuary. That fulfillment of adventure gives you new-found peace. A want for freedom. I once grounded in being home, using the walls of my apartment as my center. But that's changed. I am centered when seeking out new things. When I am growing. When I am with him. Home is a feeling now and not four walls.
I look forward to a new chapter. One with new adult friendships and happy hour at dusk in the backyard. Space to host dinner parties and game nights. I hope that the energy of other humans offers up endless inspiration. I know that my writing muse will flourish in this new space. That this new neighborhood with expand my perspective in ways that I can't even know right now. I'm leaning into the change, welcoming it as purpose. I attach to it renewed goals of taking better care of myself. Recommitting to self-care. Good food. More sleep. Lots of exercise.
My mission for “The Mission” is inspiration, as that is what brings me the most joy. I know so wholly that it’s coming for me.
This new chapter feels like an asterisk. The "Hold on! Wait there's more!"
I had it all. I was set. But no, there is an experience that I am meant to have. It's in this new home in this new part of my city. I feel like I’m just getting it in. Just in time. The colored sprinkles of my single-city-life. I am so thankful.
The unpacking will be slow and meditative. Finding new homes for my precious things is something that I love. Nesting into this newness. Decorating a new space. But for now, who wants to come over for dinner? Or brunch? I need an excuse to make cinnamon rolls, after all.
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