Aug 4, 2015

It is 7:06 in the morning and I am writing the first post in this blog for 2015. Never mind that it is August 4. This blog began as a way for me to share important things, things that I normally write about in my journal, but things that might matter to somebody else when seen through their lens and applied to their very different life.

Some time ago someone advised me to begin "The Artist's Way". In that book the author advises the reader to write three pages every morning, first thing upon arising. I did that as spiritual practice and I enjoyed it very much. I even saved all those pages, heaven knows where they are now after the move. The point about it was to get the mind limbered up and lubricated so that the words and ideas would flow. It worked. And then I didn't write anything for some time. Now is the right time to begin anew.

Many things are changing for me. My beloved and I are living in a new house, in a new town 25 miles away from the home on Stallings Avenue in East Atlanta Village I bought in 2009 with the intention of living there forever. That was my first experience of inner-city living in a lifetime of longing to live in a neighborhood of quaint midcentury houses. Within less than a year I had put the house on the market again in reaction to a flare of PTSD brought on by an exchange of gunfire directly across the street. The house did not sell, I calmed down, settled in and began to adapt.

This move was prompted by my dream of having a little bit of land to have a bigger garden and some animals, a place big enough to hold workshops and retreats and to rent out rooms B & B style. We looked for almost a year before we found the right place. This is it and I am both happy to be here and nostalgic for my inner-city home, the place where so many good memories and so much growth occurred  .

In that place I did my most successful gardening to date, growing hundreds of pounds of strawberries in the front yard rather by accident. Who knew that 11 tiny strawberry plants consisting of a few roots and not even a leaf could multiply and cover an entire front yard?

Also in that place I learned to share my space in a way different than I had ever shared space before. Starting with housemates and progressing to renting the studio and occasionally the whole house using Airbnb, I approached my childhood dream of having a house full of people. As an only child I craved a big warm family and imagined having a big family of kids when I grew up. Of course being that same only child I needed my space and particularly I needed quiet. That took negotiation and boundary setting and being willing to stand my ground even though it was very uncomfortable.

My dear dog Holly who is been my companion since December 2002 has terminal cancer. She has been my friend, often my closest friend, during the long-distance marriage, the second divorce,  the solo move to Atlanta, the first freezing winter in the new house. She put up with me going back to work and the indignity of a new dog, Timmy, bought to keep her company. I am sad.

So today for the second day in a row the air outside is cooler than the air inside when I take the dogs out, and even though the temperature reached into the 90s the mosquitoes have gone. Things are definitely changing.