Heather Untethered

My last walk home...from downtown Colorado Springs

Day by day my apartment empties. There is a lovely symmetry in people arriving, giving me some $, and taking stuff away. I won't have to rent or borrow a truck to move a thing. The few small items left, come Sunday, will easily be transported in my Sentra down the hill to the Arc, or out to the dumpster. Tomorrow the last big piece of furniture leaves--my sleep # bed--and the adorable green bookcase that held my writing and inspirational books these past few years. Over the past few weeks my furnishings and belongings have been transported to their new homes. Pieces of me are scattered from Boulder to Widefield, and all across the Springs. 

I currently sit on the floor of my empty and hollow living room, listening to my 80s playlist (Life in a Northern Town, by The Dream Academy!--it's getting a repeat right now). Today a bookcase, my set of knives, and a small card catalog left. I had lunch with a girlfriend and ran a variety of errands, including a trip to Goodwill and a run up to Ulta to restock beauty supplies. Since arriving home around 4 PM I've been working on tasks for the GCLI (Gardner Carney Leadership Institute) Leadership Lab that kicks off three weeks from today (and for which I am the Director of Operations), and am also cleaning and packing. The second bedroom is completely empty and vacuumed. One of six rooms done. 

View of Pikes Peak on my walk home

While I wouldn't say I've ever been a person obsessed with "things" or consumed by the need to acquire them, I am finding it strange to be with so few. I do not believe our things are our "home." Not at all. And yet....I am finding myself a bit adrift, or untethered. Perhaps our things are some sort of roots that attach us to places? Or they are a type of security blanket? A layer of familiarity that keeps us comfortable and at ease? I can't put my finger on it exactly......so untethered is what I'll go with. I feel untethered. 

I had to fight the urge to go out or to invite friends over. I know I need this time alone, in this space, to process, to feel, to wonder, to reflect, to dream.

Tomorrow I will leave this home of just seven months. In 33 days I will arrive into UB and my NEXT home. For the 30 days that lie between those "homes," I am NOT homeless. A good friend is allowing me to stay in her home. In exchange for mowing the lawn and feeding and petting her cat, Bailey (yay!), I will have an entire house to myself. Rent-free. 

All true.

And the kicker...it is just 100 yards away from the conference I will run at the end of June. This is a win-win situation. No...I am NOT homeless. But I am between homes that are mine. 

And so....I will be untethered these   30 days and feel what that is like. 
I will float and flap and flitter.....until 
I fly across the Pacific to UB and ground my tether to a new place, a new land.