It's crazy to me that we are just a few days away from moving. I feel like I've been packing our house for for a month - because I have been, really. "Slow and steady wins the race".
I'm sorry to say we finished 6th grade rather uneventfully. If you can call giving away and selling half of our belongings while we crammed 7 extra days worth of classes into the past three weeks, uneventful. We did reach our goal to be done early so we can focus on the season at hand... saying good-bye to Partridge Lane. And we did go for our traditional last-day-of-school ice cream.
Now that our agreements have been scheduled for the moving and cleaning, our orders are placed for a new kitchen, flooring and your new bed and bedding, our existing stuff is mostly boxed, the dogs and cat are all riled up, and we are ready to go, it's time to slow down even a bit more.
It's time to take this all in and thank God. It's time to look around a last time or two and get ready to let go.
I read this beautiful post about the Moment of Detachment this morning:
"The hour of this new day is clearly defined to the dandelion globe; it is marked by detachment. There is no sense of wrenching; it stands ready, holding up its little life, not knowing when or where or how the wind that blows where it will may carry it away. It holds itself no longer for its own keeping, only as something to be given; a breath does the rest..."
I'm letting go - detaching - from the owl's and the morning birds' melody on the silence I've learned to rest in. Detaching from the sights and smells I've come to understand and thrive in these past years. From the woods. From the space. From being left alone. From forgetting about all the people and imagining we're it.
I'm letting go and letting God guide us to whatever He desires for us. I'm looking forward to detaching from this place, these years, this story, what lay ahead here for us, and what didn't.
I'm not quite to the readiness of grabbing on to anything else. I'm not sure if or when that will be my position at all. But I am sure we are setting sail on the wind. Making a journey to be planted again, someplace now and different - someplace away.
I can. not. wait.