Taking the leap: The Prequel

Pre-leap

I daydream. I yearn, I scheme, I wonder. I make a lot of lists. (I'm not kidding, my journal has been a series of lists, schedules and budgets for almost 10 years now. That's kind of sad.)

Listmaking is the best therapy I've had. 

It's a way to make my dreams tangible. A sort of promise that I am actually going to do something. For some reason, writing it down makes it more real.

I've thoroughly explored all the options, created endless scenarios, put income and debt and everything in between up to the light. I've imagined thousands of lives that I'll never try out for real.

All this time, I've led a satisfying, but divided, life. 

Weekends and vacations spent gardening, cooking, living up north, or on the water, and then late on Sunday night, pulling in the driveway, rushing through some chores, and the next morning scrambling to get to work on time. Drawing deep to find a way to connect, to care, to be present for my colleagues, my clients, my work. If it was a less divided life... if I were a different person than I am... it would have been a fine life.

Premonition

I have a photo of myself that Kevin took, the very first time we were on the farm. We didn't own the property. I wasn't even sure we were walking the property we'd seen for sale online. I didn't know that I was really, seriously looking.

When I saw that photo, I saw it through the filter of time. As if I was elderly, looking back, and remembering the first time I walked that path. It was a powerful and emotional sensation. It was the moment the land chose me.