Moving Day
It’s moving day and by 9am I am so emotionally drained that I want to go back to bed. The moon was just a sliver at dawn, also getting a new start soon.
My hair has been washed, my two pairs of sandals and swim suit cleaned and waiting to dry. After a month of living here in this first apartment, Chapter 1 of my three part summer island retreat is closing its door with a bang. I am surprised and mildly disturbed by the amount of stuff I have accumulated since arriving only with Dinky and a small backpack.
There are the three big new investments: a stove stop espresso maker, an electric milk frother, and a big heavy blue and white striped beach poncho. Kitchen enhancements: a salt shaker, one latte spoon, rubber bands, egg holders, surface cleaner, dishwashing sponges and garbage bags. Bathroom staples: extra toilet paper, big bottles of shampoo, sun and body lotions, liquid soap. Plus the fridge and pantry items. Plus various new nice to have “office supplies”: A6 notepad, graph patterned sticky notes, 10 colored pens, 160 multi colored index cards.
What I really want to take with me to Apartment number 2 is the feeling from Apartment number 1: The view from the bedroom into the garden, the rose bushes, the clothesline, the view of the lighthouse from one chair at the breakfast table, the two rolling Strandkörbe on the terrace, the proximity to the beach. This place won over my heart although I am only here really out of necessity. The location (flat, no stairs) and floor plan (bathroom on same ground level) matched my mom’s physical needs. I was not looking for love.
I thought I knew, had it figured out, had a finite map of what is available. But. We don’t ever know all of our options. It’s impossible to visualize things that are not in your head yet. It's impossible to have that amount of control over anything. It's impossible to see what is behind the curve on the coastal path of life. A good reminder. Surprisingly simple and obvious. A deep lesson and a possible mission to conquer if I chose to accept it.
So, one door closes, another opens, literally and figuratively. Apartment 2 was also not my doing, my plan. I am moving there out of necessity as well. Severe water damage to the pre-booked venue resulted in a last minute cancellation and required an unwelcome uncomfortable switcheroo.
After the initial panic of possibly being left with nothing for the second month in the middle of the three-month stay, this unexpected out of left field proposal landed in my lap. Oh, what a compromise, oh, what a problem, oh, what a shame I can't have what I want. Wha Wha Wha.
But. Awaiting me in Apartment 2 was a surprise so delightful and joy-producing, it left me speechless. Everything was pretty much re-arranged and unpacked, and re-supplied with one of the last tasks remaining. I found the electrical outlet for my phone charger near the large bed. Looked up and what looked back at me? The lighthouse! "My" lighthouse was visible from this one corner of the room, from this side of the bed, from where I lie sleeping, from where I awaken in the morning, from the place where dreams are made during the night. The rhythmic rotation of the light clockwise like a heartbeat going round and round. I felt comforted, steadied, blessed, protected, bejeweled, and in the best of companies.
Told you, we never know all of our options.