The Move

Stately Oaks surrounded by the brittle grasses of summer, what reminds me of Steinbeck’s California.

Moving from one place to another, like all big events in life, presents with challenges, lessons, and ever present love. Though life right now is more about sorting and gathering than it is routine, Substack provides a touchstone. This is a place where I can share my stories and say thank you for being here.

Hotel camping for the next few weeks until my new house is ready for move-in, I am grateful for this comforting familiarity of writers and readers, and it feels good to be back in this wise and kind community. Happy Summer, everyone. May your adventures and dreams bring you joy.

“There is some kiss we want with our whole life; it is the touch of the spirit upon the body.”

~Rumi

Waiting: We arrived in California on July 1^st, and we visit our new house daily. She’s like an old friend going through rehab. Floors to be finished, walls to be painted, and an HVAC to be replaced. Each time we see her, she’s becoming more of who what she’s intended to be. We wait, counting days, contributing to her well-being. We wait, letting our hearts and minds fill with anticipation. This home represents a long-time desire to be in California, near hiking and water. The home is symbolic of our life journey: building, failing, losing, loving, effort, and satisfaction. Each endeavor of our nearly forty-year marriage, unfolds before us. We understand that gratitude is a product of grit and discipline, determination and surrender. And we wait. There’s a lot of physical work involved; a good deal of emotional work; and a sweet spiritual work that opens a portal of generosity in our lives.

We will move into our new home late in the month of July.

Discovery: The world around us unfolds in identifying and discovering the essentials – a grocery store, a bank, hardware store and where to buy dog food. We discover restaurants that delight, and ones we won’t go back to. We memorize street names and where to turn to get from here to there.

Up the street from the new house is a park, shaded by large redwoods. Neighbors walk and play with their dogs, a big focus on tennis balls and sticks. A little further away is another park with baseball diamonds and soccer fields. It’s surrounded by a nature trail that begins where the sports fields end. The well-groomed path winds its way through meadows and thick stands of Oak. Wild turkeys share the trail, along with an occasional fox. Blackberries can be found tangled in the underbrush, and the tall, brittle grasses of summer, lean back in the wind. Three and a half miles of beauty and wonder, providing new discovery each time we walk it.

Welcoming: We met the people who live next door to us when we were buying the house. A nice couple, our age, who grow grape vines in the backyard. One day as we were talking with contractors, there was a knock on the door and Doug (our new neighbor) brought us a quart sized mason jar filled with pressed grape juice, cold and inviting. Welcome.

On July 4^th, Doug and his wife texted us inviting us to join them for a barbeque. They have a large family – five grown children, thirteen grandchildren, and though not all of them were there, it was a big gathering and we felt honored to have been included in their family celebration. They even invited us to bring our dog

Mickey takes the move in stride. Are we there yet?

.We shared a meal and conversation. Our dog, Mickey swam in the pool with a couple of the grandkids. Then, at the end the day, other neighbors came by to meet us. We sat in a circle of patio furniture, sipping cold drinks and being welcomed by those who share the street. It’s the kind of welcoming and goodwill one dreams about, and here it was in a generosity of heart that moved us deeply. Sometimes the universe punctuates our choices with a clarity of right place at the right time.

Ancora imparo: Attributed to an eighty-six year old, Michael Angelo, the Italian phrase translates as Still, I am learning.

Still we are learning: Learning this new place; these new neighbors; a new home – work in progress. I’m learning the welcoming of goodwill and community, and the powerful wanting of reciprocation.

Though my routine is altered here, I still use the mornings to read, study and write. I often journal my day into being. This morning I sit with the warm feelings of the neighborhood welcome, and ponder the connection between human beings as I construct this essay. I love the notion that within each person we meet are stories that bind us; memories that scar us, and those which fill the human heart with joy.

I learn about the men working in our home to make her as welcoming and inviting as our neighbors have been. They work focused and hard. They give themselves to the projects at hand with skill and determination. I’m in awe. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by what there is to be finished, and we haven’t even gotten to the moving vans and the unpacking, yet. More learning: Learn about the power of pausing and deep breathing. Learn about patience. Learn about appreciating others for their efforts and learn about expressing gratitude for all of it.

Remember the Silence: With so much going on, it’s easy to forget the silence. Silence is a light to the inner life, the reflective life, which needs attention, just the way all the outer projects do. Silence is the time of alone, but not lonely. A time of peaceful prayer before jumping back into the to-do list; small moments of quiet and letting my shoulders drop; belly breaths of calm; the essence and core that cannot be forgotten even on the edges of new and exciting adventure.

Home Is An Outward Pull and An Inner State of Mind: Every day I feel the pull: life is brimming with lessons and opportunities to do good, for one’s self, and for others. There is an expansion of heart that I want with my whole life, “the touch of the spirit upon the body,” as Rumi says. And everyday, while I’m waiting to move in to my new house, everyday, I feel more and more that I’ve come home.

What is the essential longing that feels like home to you? Is it a place outside of yourself, inside of yourself or both? Let’s have a conversation.

Folsom Lake, just a few minutes from my new home.