We have a for sale sign attached to the front of our house, and it is an odd sight indeed to see- knowing it is going on the market and actually putting it on the market are two different things entirely.
I knew this day was coming, but it’s strange to arrive here, and sometimes I’m still trying to figure out the pieces that brought me to this point of change. I sort of know my pieces:
-A growing unease with myself and life trajectory
-One too many icy black Alaskan winters
-One brother passing away awfully and suddenly followed by one unsolicited and involuntary journey of grief that still continues
-A desire to live braver and bigger and sooner rather than later
-An overwhelming sense of feeling called to go.
They add up, and yet I still feel like I’m missing pieces, still feel shocked that we are making this brave jump, leaving our current life behind, so stable and dialed in, to start over again in Kauai.
Years ago I was training for a fairly extreme race and trying to be my own motivational speaker in the middle of a particularly grueling run, and I remember thinking- What would you dare to do if nobody told you you couldn’t? If you had no sense of limits, so you just went for it?
What would any of us dare to do if- even if scary and a bit far fetched- we believed it was possible? Because all dreams that come to fruition start with a seed of possibility. And we either nourish or starve that seed by the ingredients we feed it.
I’ve fed the hungry belly of this dream for the past year. Telling myself it was possible. Telling myself, despite the fears and complications and logistics of getting there, that, we will get there. And now the house is up for sale and we are in the middle of the messy business of the actual getting there part.
I don’t know what is waiting on the other side, I can only imagine. I don’t know how it’s all going to come together. I don’t know all the things I’m feeling lately with all the bittersweet and leave-taking and letting go and extreme release.
But I do know that a year ago I started cradling a seed, blowing wishes and hopes and “yes you cans” into that dream. And I know that you have to believe in your own vision of self. So very, very badly that you refuse to let anything get in the way. Refuse to take doubt and fear for an answer when faith and hope will better suffice. Refuse to believe that your dream is anything but entirely possible.
We have our first home showing in a bit, and I’m sure over the next few weeks I’m going to cringe at the invasion of privacy and disruption of schedule that will inevitably come with people coming into the house. Sigh and try not to worry and wonder how things will work out. Vacillate between sadness and stress and the nebulous feelings I can’t quite pin down as of late.
But in those moments of hassle and in-between, I am going to try and hold fast to the one thing I keep coming back to again and again and keep my heart emboldened with this thought- BethAnne, you are doing it. You are making this happen. Creating this reality. It is no longer “just a dream.”
Because all that composes our realities, at some point, was no more than the faintest wisp of a dream. A seed of possibility. And their creation falls to the only one who can see them through to fruition- ourselves.