Perhaps it’s the unwinding of memories as I declutter and organize, or the echoes of poet and philosopher David Whyte’s words echoeing in my mind from the podcast I listened to yesterday as I worked in the garage. Or, perhaps it’s simply that my focus turns inward as I sift through the outward markings of our life in this beautiful home…

Whatever the impetus, this morning was not meant for poetry. I awoke early, completed my morning puzzles (Wordle, Connections, The Mini) and embarked on the all-consuming quest for Spelling Bee Genius status. Barefoot, I made coffee, tidied the kitchen, and took Sir Beaumont for his morning saunter.

But as I sipped my latte, sitting at my desk, looking out at the river flowing past, responding to messages on my computer, the muse beckoned. I fell under her thrall. Words flowed in that space of limitless expansiveness. Two hours later, a poem was born. Heart unburdened, now it’s time to return to the task of decluttering.

Those two hours were not lost time in preparing our house for market. They were overflowing with soulful nourishment, soothing the edges of sadness as we leave this beloved home and our wonderful community here and fueling the excitement for our next adventure—into the mists of the known and unknown.

Life is an incredible journey when I listen to my heart, live with soul, and weave creativity into everything I do.

Namaste