houseless

TRANSITION BITES. That has been far and away the prevailing philosophy and modus operandi of my life for quite some time. It is changing. I am changing. Transition happens.

* * * * *

I recently described my last six months as "a series of protracted transitions." To spare the details, everything has changed - and it has done so via very long processes in a compact amount of time. Net result breaks down like this: I have more life than I could have imagined was possible, and I have no house in which to live it.

I am going to be houseless.

And far, far from homeless.

* * * * *

My small perspective on the world has come crashing into an ever broadening but incredibly connected reality. I am learning daily, and growing hourly, which means the change just never stops. And that, I'm finding, is a very good thing. The details - like housing - are nearly insignificant when stacked up against the unbelievable provision in every imaginable way. The fact is, not having a place to put my stuff (however temporarily) will undoubtedly help to learn how to live with less of it.

I do, after all, live in the upsidedown Kingdom, where the more I give away the more I have, the less I cling to my life the more undeniably real and full it becomes; the more I realize where and whom my home really is.