Count down

22 days to go

It’s happening. I was halfway through a bite of pesto-topped avocado toast at Flowers Café at Bayview on Whidbey Island (a cafe patch of summer heaven), sharing lunch with a friend who’s an astrologer and a bi-patriot traveler, when I saw that my real estate agent had called. I walked outside to stand among overflowing flower pots and hanging baskets and called him back. Just in—a full price offer for my house. In his understated way, he said, “I suggest you take it.”

That was Sunday, three weeks into a waiting period that felt like three months. The astrologer and I had both just finished dancing at the weekly Prayer Body gathering here, a 5-Rhythms practice made magical by a rotating cadre of top-flight musicians who show up each week to play for us, and a teacher/facilitator who’s one in a million. It’s a powerhouse combination.

I could write a book about the week that led up to my realtor’s call, with a whole chapter on that morning’s dance and another about the conversation that my astrologer friend and I were halfway through. But my realtor’s news was the climax. I was a bit too dazed to appreciate it at the moment—I probably looked like a stunned mullet. I said yes.    

Fast forward nine days to today. My agent called this morning with the results of last Saturday’s house inspection. All along, I knew none of this would be real until I got through this stage, like a last round of finals before getting a degree. Good news: I passed! I need to take care of a few things, but nothing huge. No deal-breakers. In effect, my house won a ribbon in the county fair.

This is my point of no return. Reluctant aspects of myself, like my inner “chief of security,” have been too fretful about what we’re leaving to get excited about what’s coming. It’s classic, understandable fear of the unknown. But the inspection results make it official; it’s time for all of me to get with the program. We’re leaving together, and soon.   

The closing is August 1. After which a few days with the island portion of my family, then almost two weeks with high-vibe friends in Mexico, then a few rounds of pet-sitting and couch surfing, and then…TBD. Short trips to more friends across the States and priceless hours with my best friend, here. I’ll travel farther, longer, when the time is right. I’m not sure in which country I’ll root, but I’ll probably root somewhere. Anything could happen between now and then. Here’s to all the places and faces I’ll encounter in the time between.

Photo by Vika Strawberrika on Unsplash