I’ve moved, again. Among all the familiar feelings surrounding a move there is a small but persistent one that is new. It says, it’s OK, you can relax now. I have been on the move for all of my life. I never really thought of myself as a restless person but my inability to live in one place for long would dispute that feeling. I am always interested in how different my perception sometimes is compared to my reality. So as I look around my newly unpacked house I wonder why I have moved so much and if this house will hold me for a while.

Since the birth of my son four years ago he and I have lived in five different houses. Before he was born I swore I wouldn’t do to him what my parents did to me, and yet here we are five houses later. A need for roots has been growing in me steadily since I became pregnant. I have never been good at making big life changes for others, so I’m glad the need to stay rooted came from within me and not solely wanting to do the right thing for my child. It took my husband and I a few tries before we figured out where we wanted to plant ourselves so our roots would spread out, go deep and we would blossom. Our new town has all the right ingredients for the three of us to thrive and bear fruit.

Yet since we bought and moved in to this house I have thought constantly how I want to change it and I fantasize about our dream house we will on day build that is straw bale, all solar and looks like a boutique hotel in it’s elegance and understated opulence. I have struggled with “enough” my whole life. Mother Mary tells me to write down what is enough, get specific She says. But if I do that I might achieve it and I wouldn’t have nearly such a big stick to club myself with for constantly falling short of some vague ideal. The good news is amongst the fantasy, there is a growing reality. Each day I experience a fulfillment of my needs by living in this town. Giving myself the gift of this place is restoring my trust in life. Things come a bit easier here. Changes I have been trying to be consistent with for years are easier to stick with and follow though on. The ease Mother provided in getting us here hasn’t ended. All the craziness is so obviously of my own making I am better able to let it go and refocus on what is being provided for me rather that what I imagine to be missing. I don’t ever remember feeling this abundant before, even though our financial situation hasn’t changed. My new home is a balm to my wounded self. I feel I have found a place I can heal the rest of what needs healing inside me, a place of respite.

My new home holds the possibility of enough for me. Will I be have the courage to stay? The answer as always is, with Mother Mary’s help, Yes I Can!