I’m selling my house. Many of you know this by now but sometimes I just need to see the words on a page.
I’m selling my house.
More accurately, my house is sold.
So quickly, it seems, did it travel from “I’m never selling this house”—the view I’ve held for decades—to “you know, maybe I could sell this house” in early January—to “the house is sold”.
And so it is. The house is sold and I’m moving in 2 weeks. All of the way along it has felt like everything is happening as it should be. I thought there would be moments of doubt, of regret, but no. It all feels solid.
I’m unearthing so much history as I choose what to move and what to leave behind on this trail that is my life. Like discarded scarves found tangled in trees along a road, I leave things one by one, wishing them well and saying goodbye. Tears show up as I listen to the stories some items tell and those tears roll through me like a little storm. And then I say goodbye.
With every goodbye, every act of letting go, I feel a little lighter. And I know it is right.
How often it is that we receive a nudge that points us in the right direction. How often do we listen?