Yesterday morning, for the first time since I made "The Decision," I started to feel the tug. On my way to meeting a close friend for our bi-weekly morning walk, it occurred to me that these precious hours were now counted. She and I have walked in the mornings, off and on for several years, and these moments are both important and delicious. Together, we debrief, we gain perspective, we laugh, we vent - and we set the day to come. And per our calculations, we have about 5 of these bits of goodness to enjoy. For now.
It's good. I am choosing this. Because life is so skilled at giving us what we want (I have a retroactive blog post coming about that and the magic that took place in the last weeks or two to make this happen) I am grateful for what's to come. And there are only 5 of these special walks left.
All of a sudden, the switch has been flipped, and while I intend to remain as present as possible in the deliciousness of my life here, I know that time has come to prepare for the next chapter, time has come for many "last times - for now."
Which means thinking about the very few things I want to take with me.
And that part is a lot of fun.
Why? Because, just as a move to a smaller home asks of us to pay really close attention to what is Actively Used or Deeply Cherished, the thought of living out of a backpack (which we have to carry) for 6 months has a way of getting us thinking essentially really quickly.
So yesterday, I got busy doing just that. Thinking about what I will want to not be without. And conveniently enough, the answer to this question surprises me by landing me to pretty much one place: my herbalist. In the lovely shop, aided by a young woman whom I have learned to trust, I am loading up on my special tea, and my favorite oil. Out of the shop with a small brown shopping bag, I feel ready. Most anything else, I can do without or I can get "there," wherever there happens to be, But even sweeter than being ready, I love having gotten that closer look at me, and at what matters to me.
Organic tea and organic oil.
I don't know that I knew this about me.
Sounds like the gifts have already started.
"Thank you for sharing your wonderful, heartbreaking, exhilarating experience with the world."
"Thank You Laura for sharing, for teaching and spreading loving kindness. "
"I think I love you. You bring good things into my life, or remind me of things I love and know, but have let go of."
"Laura, you are so good for me. I laugh and sniffle and get the shivers when I read your essays. Thanks so much for letting all your wonderfulness run around loose."
"Heart-achingly beautiful, your words and how you reveal your truth."
"Thank you so much for who you are and what you share with the world. Your mere being transforms lives as it has transformed mine. This particular post did to my heart what water does to parched soil."
"Thank you for your gentle words that are packed full of wisdom. I have been struggling with the concept of what words can do to another person when they are negative words. Your words are the flip side of our word power, and shows how delightfully powerful kind words can be. Thank you."
"Once again Laura Lavigne takes you on an adventure of the heart. She has a way of pulling you right in the car with her. Asking you to consider changing a fear to taking thoughtful action. Whether she's teaching a class, leading a retreat or heading for a happiness sprinkling, Laura will invite you to shed old ways of thinking and be completely authentic. Join in!"
"Essentially pure love.
I enjoy how Laura is kind to herself and to us other humans who dance in and out of each other's lives. "
"Don't miss an post!
You can count on Laura for warmth, humor, charm, and a lift to your day and your heart. She inspires me to be braver than I am, and to love the world out loud. She's a gem, and a generous one at that!"
I write because this is the way I am able to taste life more deeply.