Tuesday, February 11, Mount Washington
Five weeks ago this morning I woke up in my Malibu bed, greeting the birds, the trees and the day and having no idea this would be the last in the intimate precious world of my sacred space.
This morning I woke to the birds, the trees and the day in my sheltered spot which has become my retreat, where my feathers have been soothed and my soul quieted. This is my last morning here.
Another transition is at hand. Long Beach.
Long Beach?
Yes.
What is Long Beach?
No idea, but it is my next harbor. Literally.
I will be moving into a tiny apartment, nestled in a garden, in a neighborhood that is new to me and/but I will be THREE blocks from the ocean, my beloved ocean which I looked out on every morning from my bluff with a heartful of gratitude and now I will practically be IN IT.
These weeks have been intense, to put it mildly. Hours and hours at the disaster relief center, which has yet to come through for me with assistance, hours and hours of wide awake eyes and a racing heart, flashes of ‘what was’ crossing my awareness with wafts of sorrow, but/and a deep growing acceptance and anticipation in embracing the mystery that lies ahead.
Quiet is needed now and I have been gifted with this new nest by the universe.
The very same universe that fired through my previous life.
None of us know anything but we must trust.
Always.
It’s exciting.
Beauty lies ahead.
And work! And creativity!
Thank you, God.