Monday, February 20, 2012


Right now movement is difficult. I'm tired, laying flat on my back, and I don't have the momentum to change it. That which is in motion stays in motion...

Maybe it's that I've spent wayyyyy too much time being on the go, transitioning from thing to thing, and not stopping. Having to hold on for dear life as I had more things on my plate than hours to finish them. Trying to fit in time for myself to get mad because there just isn't time.

Suddenly, there's time. At least, time that's forthcoming. On the horizon is a place of my own, a place where it doesn't matter how many hours I work, I get to go home to my own space. Not a space I'm sharing with a group of people, or a roomate, but mine. It's sounds so peaceful.

This move is scary. The ability to finally have a place to just stop.  A place where I can take off my mask, if only to myself. I've had this before and I've forgotten what it's like to leave work out, clothes on the floor, a little mess and clutter. I'm scared, not to be lonely, but to be alone.

This move is hard. This is the beginning of a new chapter. A chapter where I'm closing one of growth so I can grow into another. There's the responsibility of defining what my home means to me. And to have boundaries in place, from the beginning, of what I'm going to allow into my life.

This move is heart breaking. I have the blessing of the CEO to move out. A letter of reference, an accolade in my resume. But I'm leaving something so much bigger than kudos and a good name. I'm watching the end of something beautiful. The closing of a chapter of more than 25 years of helping women in crisis. Of over 1,000 babies being born that would have otherwise not come into existence. The end of the Hiding Place.

Suddenly, I'm ok with just laying here forever. Because I know, once I get up and set tomorrow in motion, the momentum will continue and the next month will fly by, and I'll be in my place.

A new chapter.

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