diceWhen people ask me how I’m doing, the first words out of my mouth, for the last few months, have been “I’m selling my house.”

It is the most logical way I can convey all the activity in my life. When it’s not physical- reorganizing, packing, storing and cleaning, it’s emotional. “How can I leave this place?” “Where will I go?” In fact, the latter is the logical next question people ask. I tell them the truth. “I don’t know.”

Next week, there will be strangers touring my home. Potential buyers sizing up the the living room for a sectional and peering out the window to see the snow covered deck. They’ll be walking through new finishes, lighting and accessories that have taken months to find, purchase and install.

There may be an offer as early as next Monday. And just like that, this place will have an expiration. I have no plan for the next step. There are so many possibilities that I have no clear direction. The future is uncertain.

In January, the looming uncertainty started getting to me. It felt irresponsible to just accept not knowing what might happen. So I began creating possible scenarios, from best to worst. I thought it would make me more comfortable. But then I had to remember all the scenarios in a virtual playlist- a collection of future memories. It became needlessly more complicated.

So I stopped.

I stopped trying to nail down the future. I stopped trying to know what I can’t possibly know. Instead, I began putting all my energy into being more present today. And being grateful for the people who are helping move forward. And the rest of the time, I’m just a big sap of nostalgia. This home is where I figured it all out. HERE. In this house. It’s where I left to get married. It’s where I came back when I got divorced. It’s where I had no furniture and won my living room set in a raffle. And where countless friends and family members gave me what I needed to feel whole again. It’s where I quit my job and wrote for six months. It was my comfort during that strange jobless time and during a mess of bad grammar, bad break ups and bad work commutes. And also celebrations. So many parties and meals and drinks both spilled and consumed. So much happiness. HERE.

I still don’t know where I’ll be living this spring. For now, what I want most is to soak up all the love and memories with the hope of keeping them close and taking them with me. If I can manage that, it doesn’t really matter where I end up.