I close on the house in two days. Tuesday morning I’ll do the walk-through at 9:15 with Judy Rivard and then we’ll head over to Bob Spencer’s office. We’ll sign the papers, hand over the bank checks and so it will be done. This land, barn, brook and home will be mine.
I find I still don’t quite know what to make of this all. On the one hand, I have been moving toward and wanting to simplify life. I had dreams of buying a cabin on an Adirondack lake, living a life of solitude and reflection. I’ve had the idea of disappearing into the great vastness more and more, at once getting smaller and smaller and yet expanding into nature, into spirit. Shrinking the social engagement, the pressured physical world and resting into a flow. So, here I am purchasing a 13-acre farm that will demand so much of my ageing body and my pocketbook. And filling that pocketbook back up is a big demand as well. It feels like the best-laid plan is usurped by what wants to come.
Always there is a voice there saying “What the heck are you doing!” At age 60 taking this on? But somehow it just keeps feeling right and good and exciting. There is a warmth about the whole dream. At the same time, I feel a strange sort of detachment, like if it all fell apart, that would be okay too and that it will all work out without a lot of fierce efforting on my part. So far this has been true. It has all just flowed into existence.