Sometimes a change of perspective is all it takes to see the light.

Dan Brown
What do you see?

It’s been quite the week. On Thursday I received a phone call at work from my landlord to say that someone approached him to purchase the house that I live in, and, as the market is wild at the moment in my area, the price being offered would be really challenging for anyone to turn down. This came out of the blue. It was totally unanticipated. I have lived in this house now for two years, and my children and pets and I have really settled in and made this a home. It is the first home I have ever lived in by myself, and I remember the day that I found it two years ago, another moment when my world was turned upside down and I needed to find a house and move quickly. I knew this was “the house” because there is a lion’s head door knocker, and this was the sign, a lion’s head knocker was on the vision I made on New Year’s Eve just a few weeks before.

The house was built in the 1920s, almost 100 years ago. The rest of the house was untouched from the 1980s it seemed, dirty carpet, faded wallpaper, it needed work. As creativity is one of my top values, with their permission I turned this place around, with vision and hard work. It had beautiful bones, with a large porch at the front where I set up an outdoor dining room during the pandemic, and even hosting on of my best friend’s wedding dinner. There is a beautiful, petite sunroom at the back, that my daughter aptly named “the cozy room” as we put a daybed with lots of cushion, and a little electric fireplace for those chilly winter days. Each morning I sit and drink my coffee, pull cards for the day, and journal in this room, it is the room I spend the most time in. I bought a fire pit and we had an outdoor screening and campfire for my daughter’s summer birthday – this was “our” home in every sense of the word except ownership.

The ceilings are high, the windows large, and we moved the piano despite my friends begging me not to—and making me promise to not take it with me if I ever move again. I will truly miss this place, it is has served me and my children well, provided us with a small down experience, far from much of the stress of long line ups at busy stores in the city during the early days of the pandemic. Now seems more than a coincidence that as the world learns to live with COVID-19, we are moving back to the city.

After crying, thinking, talking to others, I decided to take up my mom’s offer and move back in with her. The timing is just not right to make any other choice. I could try and rush to buy a house, but in this inflated real estate market, it would mean moving farther north, which is impractical with a job and children’s schools and friends in town – not to mention the additional financial responsibilities that come with home ownership, which may mean leaving the other goals I have been working towards on the side. Then there is just the reality of living far far away from everyone and everything, just to have my own space. Finding another place to rent also isn’t really an option – I was lucky to find this home at the rate I did, many of my friends couldn’t believe my luck – rental for a place of a similar size, that allows pets with the current rates would eat 95% of my income. Totally unsustainable. Not to mention, the idea of having to move again in a couple of years is not appealing.

Setting all these thoughts aside for the day, I went to Liberty Lane to feed the Freedom Herd and complete the chores as I do on Sundays. When I arrived at the farm, from the car, I could see Mia, the grey mare standing by herself by the fence. I paused for a moment, and tuned in – what message was she sending? At the time, I felt it was something like “you’re alone” a common default voice in my head. I went inside, prepped the food, and walked through the barn. On the other side, as I opened the door and came around the corner, mere seconds later – I was given another perspective – as seen in the video below.

Mia was not alone, I just thought she was…in reality, she was surrounded by her herd. And so am I. I am not alone, I am supported by those I see, and the realm that I do not. With this opening, I could consider that I wasn’t “defaulting” to living with my mom, I am consciously making this choice. One that I am clear is in service to her, my children, and my future self. I have shifted my thoughts from “I am alone” to “I am surrounded by love and support on my journey” which has created room to experience excitement on this new adventure.

They were there all along!

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