Sundays in April remind me of trout season. My neighbors always had an opening day party and the creek was filled with canoes, kayaks and people wading and fishing. 

I was blessed to have spent eleven years living next to the creek. Great blue herons frequently fished outside my window and kingfishers bulleted down the stream, always dead center and on a mission. Occasionally a beaver would swim by or a kestrel, eagle or wild turkey would visit. Hummingbirds sipped nectar from the bergamot every summer, and a flock of cedar waxwings made their annual visit. One year I got to see a robin teach her baby to fly! 

Inspiration was abundant and the paint brush danced! Fish, insects, turtles, mallards, chipmunks . . . 

Many of my paintings were done on stone, the perfect natural canvas for capturing my visitors. 

On Monday I'm meeting with a realtor to sell my beloved property on the Yellow Breeches. I lived there from January 1, 2000 until April 2011. The night of April 17th my home water rose into my first floor for the first time due to an unprecedented eight inches of rain over night. I left in waist high water with Zippy, my puggle and Rocky, my cat. In the fall of 2011, when most properties in the area flooded, my property was unharmed. 

I was blessed to have had over a decade of precious memories by the creek but now it is time to move on. A series of glitches have cause me to believe that I am not meant to return. God obviously has different plans for me and I have finally accepted that it is time to relocate. I will miss my family, friends and community sorely.

Please send prayers that my land will sell to someone who will cherish it and find the peace and joy I've experienced there for over a decade. I truly believe it is a sacred space.

Thank you to all of you who have encouraged and supported me through this ordeal. My heart is over flowing with gratitude for the wonderful people I am leaving behind. Hopefully, Facebook will  provide a way to continue to stay in touch after I leave the area. 

"Every day is a winding road. I get a little bit closer." Sheryl Crowe

This morning I journaled about all of the places I've lived - a farm in Indiana, college town in West Virginia, suburbs in Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania, a small village in Germany, then back to Pennsylvania. It's been a mix but one thing I haven't tried is urban living in a high rise. 

In April, Mycala asked me to join her to look at condos at the Penthouse Tower. She has decided to purchase one, and I joined her this week to see if moving there might feel right to me. She has been asking me to move to Baltimore for years.  

The area was charming - a farmer's market right outside the door teeming with flowers, fruits and vegetables, a park near by, a charming church with a shop that reminded me of Styles Boutique, and a gypsy bus painted in glorious colors and filled with vintage clothing.

A shop filled with mermaids lured us in, Urban Outfitters was close by and there were restaurants featuring cuisine from around the world sprinkled through out the neighborhood. We ate at a divine Italian restaurant and had gazpacho and a fresh tuna and artichoke salad that took me back to Tuscany. 

When I returned, I met friends for dinner to share my impressions and to see if moving to that area felt like the right thing to do. It does! But when they asked to see pictures, I realized that I hadn't taken one photograph of any part of the apartment building. Everything was the abundance of nature and beauty surrounding it. What a delight to find so much natural beauty and abundance in the heart of the city - the best of both worlds! 

"You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star." Friedrich Nietzsche

One of the lessons I'm learning in my (seemingly endless) attempts to rebuild following the flood is to find comfort with chaos. The mixed messages I've received from builders have been astounding!  The first quote I received for my 1250 square foot one bedroom cabin was $137,500. It seems a fair price, but sadly, the builder had unforeseen challenges and so I began to look for bids from other builders. 

The second quote I received was from a builder approved by the bank and he stated that he would be able to build my cabin for $199,000 - an increase of $61,500. The next bid was $215,000, increasing my original bid by $77,500!

I already own the land. This is a ONE BEDROOM cabin. The final value of the house would be $259,400 and I would need to find several similar one bedroom houses valued at over $250,000. (I am limited to one bedroom because of my sewage system - very few home owners in our area have that limitation.) 

The opinion I most respect is from one of our township officials who noted, "Utilizing Building Valuation Data Table from the International Code Council, developer and publisher of the building codes used extensively throughout the US, including PA, the sq. ft. cost for a single family dwelling constructed with a wooden frame should not be much higher than $100K.  There would be some additional cost for the reinforced, flood-resistant foundation, but not much."

The township uses these BVD tables to check construction cost estimates, and the first estimate I had was very close. If a township official feels that $100,000 "with additional cost for the reinforced, flood-resistant foundation, but not much" is reasonable, then more than double the cost can be viewed as either frustrating or amusing. I've decided to be amused! 

I could also sell the land and head off to live closer to my friends Carrie and Lisa, and I would only be 45 minutes from the ocean! 

There is chaos and lack of clarity a fraction of an inch below the surface of a mirror. But everything becomes clear when we move forward that paper thin distance. 

Regardless of how this plays out, I intend to have faith and to find comfort in the chaos. I'm certain that I will soon be joyously giving birth to yet another dancing star!

One Year Anniversary Since the Flood

It's been almost a month since my last post - 
http://mikellsgems.livejournal.com/. I've been retreating, hiding in my shell, the home I carry on my back, like a turtle. Since the flood, a year ago on April 16/17, I have slowly pulled back into the illusion of safety in my shell.

I'm hearing the word 'vulnerable' in so many contexts recently. It was the title of our Easter Service at church - the best sermon I've ever heard. http://www.pinestreet.org/live-stream/  I've read several references to being vulnerable this week, and it was the common thread in last week's tele-class. 

After class I began to work on the Prosperous Heart by Julia Cameron and found this quote.

"Loss is always a gain in disguise."

Julia elaborates, stating that when loss is excruciatingly painful, we need to turn to faith.  "Loss puts us back in touch with our own spirit. It cracks our harder shell and exposes our vulnerability."

Years ago i found an acorn in the woods and carried it home, thinking about one of my favorite lessons from nature - 

"An acorn holds the promise of a thousand forests."

I carried the acorn home and put it on the shelf in the living room, but as I turned to walk away it occurred to me that it would never fulfill it's promise isolated on a shelf in my cabin. It would never reach its full potential unless it's brittle outer shell was softened by nature and allowed to become vulnerable. I took the acorn back to the place I found it, confident that the forces of nature would work their magic.

Being isolated and safe is an illusion. When we try to protect ourselves from life, we lose the opportunity for growth, interaction and joy. Vulner - ability is a word I needed to hear. I'm leaving my hard shell and going back out into the world after a period of temporary retreat. Tonight's class made me realize that we are all fragile, yet in our vulnerability lies boundless strength.

Thank you Sparks, for your love, support, patience and unconditional acceptance.  
You've given me the courage to become soft and receptive. Now I can find my strength and fulfill my dreams.