Our current location has been our much-loved place of business for the past four years. After a hectic search and major renovation to our new space, we are finally scheduled to move on Friday.
Moving has many unintended consequences. For instance, all of our advertising, including our website must be updated. That, in turn, necessitates a thoughtful consideration of our vision and goals. Moving also encourages housecleaning, thus we are letting go of much; we are also acquiring more space, which leads to the purchase of new furniture and other furnishings.
The past week has been filled with pre-move activity. The coming week promises to be even more focused on the move. As it is, growing piles of packed boxes fill the corners of the office. This week sessions must be negotiated in a vastly changed environment; in some ways it seems we have already vacated the space.
Perhaps the move is timely. Fall color is past peak. After a week of wind and rain and snow showers the trees are increasingly denuded; some are bare. Next weekend marks the Days of the Dead, a time for gathering and considering those who have passed. Come Saturday, we will pause in our unpacking and join with the community to acknowledge those who have made our lives possible and those whose lives are yet to come.
This year, we approach the Days of the Dead with a renewed appreciation for the transitory nature of our lives. We are also reminded that we owe much to the Ancestors, spirits, our community, and our families. Without them our lives would be impoverished, perhaps impossible.
The wood is stacked, the garden mostly put to bed. Last night we lit the seasons’ first fire in the wood stove. Soon, the day’s chill was driven from the room, replaced by the comfort that arises only from wood heat and dancing flame. This is indeed a season of change. It is a time of turning inward, of dreaming, a season of deep ceremony, gathering with family and friends, and profound gratitude for the richness of our lives.
In some ways moving now, at this juncture in the turning year, seems odd. Rather than taking a rest at the end of the harvest, we are already spreading the seeds of renewal in our work. Perhaps, after we settle in to the new space, there will indeed be time to snuggle deeply into the renewing quiet of deep winter. There is also the promise of new growth, and the flowering of as yet undreamed of possibility. We’ll keep you informed.