Shifting Space again
An end and a beginning
I should be grading. But sometimes you have to do what you feel, not what you should, right? This is one of those times.
When I started space about five and half years ago, I couldn’t imagine where this journey would take me. I named it shifting space because what I could foresee was that launching on such a new sort of adventure (for me) would lead to growth and changing perspective and new dreams.
I began this journey from a place of exhaustion. Worn out from the constant onslaught of negativity, of us against them mentality, of division and separation on so many levels, of anger. So much anger.
I wanted to see goodness and beauty and kindness again.
And I did.
Despite the continued and growing path of more of the same that the world seems to be on at the moment.
I found common ground with people who had far different political or spiritual views than I have. I was met with kindness from these same folks. We deftly skirted conversations that would go nowhere when we landed upon touchy topics. We found our way back to shared interests and experiences. To commonalities rather than differences.
Did these encounters change the trajectory of the world?
No. Not in any apparent way.
But they changed me.
And maybe they changed the people I met, too. Even if just a little.
You never know what the ripple effects will be from any one encounter or action.
I quit watching the news several years ago — though there is no way to ignore all that is happening out there — and started opening my eyes and heart to the people I met, to the landscapes I found myself in.
The trip from there to here was not without obstacles. Scary roads, rude drivers, and unfriendly people were part of the equation, but they weren’t the whole picture.
And through it all, I learned to listen to that inner voice, to trust. To believe that I’d see my way forward, even if not as fast as I hoped.
Because…as you all know by now if you’ve been reading my posts for a while…patience does not come easy for me.
But eventually, way led to the PNW way, an area that stole my heart back when I was doing my doctoral research in the region, and I found myself eventually parked on an island on the Olympic Peninsula. And there I found myself wanting to dig down deep and plant my roots.
So, I did.
After 5.5 years in Knight, my beloved RV, sharing adventures with my bestie and four felines, we’ve found a new home to live in.
Now that we aren’t moving from place to place, both of us and the kitties were ready for a little bit more space.
Ever since I settled in on the island, I began envisioning a house. A cottage, actually. One that sits on a bluff, with views of the mountains and water. Two bedrooms. Character. And I couldn’t make up my mind between a fireplace and wood-burning stove.
As summer drew to a close, we started thinking about finding a structure to live in. An apartment didn’t seem the thing…not enough windows or light for us or the cats. I’d searched for a house on the island a couple of times but didn’t see anything. And we couldn’t find what we were looking for in Port Townsend, either.
We set the search aside for a few weeks, nearly giving up on the idea of moving into a house and preparing to hunker down for another winter.
But, one day, I looked on Zillow for house rentals in Port Townsend and began emailing property managers. On a whim one night, I thought I’d try one more time for a place on the island.
And there it was.
This house. One of two rentals that popped up for this area but the only one that was perfect.
I saw it late at night when I couldn’t sleep, showed it to Gail, called the property manager in the morning, heard back from her within the hour, set up a tour for that evening, filled out the application, and signed the lease the next day.
Oh, and by the way, not one single other property manager for the other rentals I’d inquired about contacted me.
We moved in on November 1.
And this house:
A two-bedroom 1930s bungalow.
It sits on a bluff with views of the Puget Sound and the Cascades (including Mt. Baker).
It has a porch on two sides.
It has character.
And the universe has a sense of humor.
Instead of a fireplace OR a wood-burning stove, we have a fireplace that was converted to house the piping for the wood-burning stove that sits just in front of it.
So, in essence, I got a fireplace AND a wood-burning stove!
Yes, I believe I manifested this place. That fireplace/wood-burning stove was one confirmation. The ease with which the rental happened when finding places to rent around here is SO hard was another.
This morning I got a third one. I went for a walk down the road I now live on. It has a different vibe from the other side of the island where we were parked in an RV park — let me just say here, that I loved the little RV park where we lived and loved the people we met there and loved the fact that we were so close to the state park — and people walk this road all the time.
Life feels a little slower here. And everyone waves to passersby, whether in cars, on two wheels or on foot.
This morning, on my walk, I ended up talking to a neighbor who is building a house with his wife. The conversation rolled around to me moving into a rental house down the road a bit. He asked how we found it. I gave him the low-down.
“Really? I know people who have been looking for a rental here literally for years.”
Yes, indeed. I feel more grateful than you can imagine.
Something else I’ve been thinking about. Hoping for. Envisioning.
I’m a shy introvert by nature. But I’ve been craving community. Seeking it isn’t easy for me. It isn’t in my comfort zone. Though I’ve learned over the years how to stand in front of sometimes more than 100 students and teach, it’s the more intimate settings and the one-on-one or small group conversations that are more challenging for me.
Yet, here, too, it seems life is carrying me along and presenting opportunities to connect, whether walking down this road I now live on or meeting up with fellow Substack writers (next weekend) or finding out about other online communities (thanks to @JohnLovie for his insightful post!) beyond the standard social media platforms.
So, my heart is full, with so much to be grateful for.
The atrocities happening now are heartbreaking and make it feel like the world is falling apart. And it is, in so many ways, from humanitarian crises to environmental ones. Yet, I feel like the only way out of this is to seek the good, the light, the kindness, the community.
To find our humanity and reach out our hearts and hands to our neighbors, wherever we find them, in hopes that we can create a growing chain of connection that supports rather than divides, that lifts one another up, rather than knocking each other down.
To find ways to help where we can. Because it’s easy to give up and feel hopeless in the face of so much tragedy.
Can we hold others in our hearts who suffer more than we can imagine while doing our best to live a full life that acknowledges there is still much to be grateful for? Can we take time to lend a hand or a smile or a hug and know that that, too, matters.
Because it does.
And you never know the ripple effects one kind gesture can have.
I don’t think we turn the tide by giving out more of the same.
We don’t excuse the events or pretend they don’t exist.
But maybe we owe it to our experience as humans to find a way forward that pushes back against the tide of despair by living with our hearts forward, leading with love first.
So, here I am, shifting space again. I’ve meandered through this post with no clear point. I just knew I wanted to write here today and about this new direction my life is taking. Stepping out of the RV life and into a house again isn’t something I thought I’d be doing anytime soon, until I found this place. This little island in the PNW. This community.
I’ll probably sell Knight. And I’ll probably bawl my eyes out when I say goodbye to my little house on wheels. My home for years, filled with loving energy that began long before I bought it, with the family that owned it before me.
It isn’t just a camper. It has life. It has heart. It has the spirit and soul and energy of all the goodness that has happened within its walls.
Excuse me now, while I go have a little cry and then turn my face to Mt. Baker and my heart to what’s to come.
Peace. And Love.
Des
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Waving from PT!
Beautifully expressed as always, and I also believe you manifested that house!!! xo