I just finished updating my will. I found myself tearing up as I wrote instructions for what to do with my remains and what elements I want as part of my celebration of life. I teared up because I was thinking of just how much I love the people in my life and how dearly loved I feel.
We've been doing a lot of signing of things. All good but so strange in what each signature pulls up emotionally. The main theme of the last few weeks has been examining expectations. And as we surrender, let go and untether from the house, jobs, our beloved town and our stuff, this idea of expectation is weaved through it all. It is so easy to have expectations, then to feel crushed when they don't pan out the way we were expecting them to.
The space where expectation meets reality feels super uncomfortable and inescapable AND never-ending. We've been good about recalibrating and being flexible--so the discomfort doesn't last forever, as it would if we refused to adjust our sails. What a life lesson and great practice for the year ahead. We can chart our course, but we must be realistic about unexpected stormy waters and plan for them, just in case. Preparation saves perspiration.
As of this moment, we're likely leaving Oregon between September 10 and 20. Once we have certainty about handing keys off to the new owner of our house, we will be able to buy plane tickets to New York and Colombia. John's parents are in New York, who we will visit before leaving the U.S. Prior to that, we will drive to Los Angeles to get some quality time in with my dad.
Now, we figure out how to fill our days meaningfully and without spending money. The next month will be pretty fun, I suspect. We're going to camp each week, during the work week, when few people are out in the wilderness. Our first camp out of the summer will be tomorrow night when the Perseid meteor shower is due over Oregon. It will be a good way to ring in August 12th, the 10th anniversary of my mom's death. *sigh*