Stepping away
Mission accomplished.
We had a very enjoyable and successful meeting this week with Dina and Ralph, and beginning next April, they will be taking over the reins of ABM for 2019 Spring and Summer season.
Buoyed by equal parts excitement and trepidation, I slept poorly the night after our interview. Woke numerous times worried that I was going to be sick. This is our baby! Stepping away and letting others run the inn we've created, nourished and grown is going to be tough. But, as I keep reminding myself, it's the only way to move forward instead of marching in place.
Driving home to California from Colorado, it appears a snowstorm had passed west of Denver in the time we'd been visiting. While (for the most part) the roads were clear and dry, snow scaped the peaks and canyons of the Rockies. Even prettier, the fine snow had settled into the wind-and water-carved sandstone buttes of lower Monument Valley, creating dimension usually unnoticed. It reminded me of how absorbed we become in the busyness of our lives, how we rarely take the time or effort to cast more than a cursory glance and yet often form judgments without ever seeing the true depth carved there.
In the late afternoon of that day, snow, fine as a sandstorm, gusted through the passes creating momentary whiteout conditions, making me grateful that Chris was driving rather than me. It was not a snow storm per se but rather a wind event that blew the dry powder into the air like so much dust. For well over an hour it appeared that no one besides us was heading west, and we passed only a dozen or so truckers eastbound. It was hairy and not a little alarming, and this child of suburbia was glad to reach Cedar City, UT, shortly after nightfall. (Where IS that drink?!?)
When I walked Sydney the following morning it was 22 degrees F with a light breeze, and I was layered in every coat, scarf, and jacket I'd brought with me. By the time we stepped out of the car in Laguna midafternoon, it was 78 degrees. And later, after a beach walk, we were blessed by a spectacular "winter" sunset...my talisman of hope and positivity.
It will likely take a few days to absorb the enormity of our decision and to start preparing lists of ways to make a transition as seamless as possible. But already I'm feeling a lightness in my step that has little to do with the fact that I'm back to wearing shorts and flip-flops.
Baby steps towards wherever the future will send us!
We had a very enjoyable and successful meeting this week with Dina and Ralph, and beginning next April, they will be taking over the reins of ABM for 2019 Spring and Summer season.
Buoyed by equal parts excitement and trepidation, I slept poorly the night after our interview. Woke numerous times worried that I was going to be sick. This is our baby! Stepping away and letting others run the inn we've created, nourished and grown is going to be tough. But, as I keep reminding myself, it's the only way to move forward instead of marching in place.
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| Snow filling in the spaces in the rocks |
Driving home to California from Colorado, it appears a snowstorm had passed west of Denver in the time we'd been visiting. While (for the most part) the roads were clear and dry, snow scaped the peaks and canyons of the Rockies. Even prettier, the fine snow had settled into the wind-and water-carved sandstone buttes of lower Monument Valley, creating dimension usually unnoticed. It reminded me of how absorbed we become in the busyness of our lives, how we rarely take the time or effort to cast more than a cursory glance and yet often form judgments without ever seeing the true depth carved there.
In the late afternoon of that day, snow, fine as a sandstorm, gusted through the passes creating momentary whiteout conditions, making me grateful that Chris was driving rather than me. It was not a snow storm per se but rather a wind event that blew the dry powder into the air like so much dust. For well over an hour it appeared that no one besides us was heading west, and we passed only a dozen or so truckers eastbound. It was hairy and not a little alarming, and this child of suburbia was glad to reach Cedar City, UT, shortly after nightfall. (Where IS that drink?!?)
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| One way to feel what a small part of the Universe I am! |
When I walked Sydney the following morning it was 22 degrees F with a light breeze, and I was layered in every coat, scarf, and jacket I'd brought with me. By the time we stepped out of the car in Laguna midafternoon, it was 78 degrees. And later, after a beach walk, we were blessed by a spectacular "winter" sunset...my talisman of hope and positivity.
It will likely take a few days to absorb the enormity of our decision and to start preparing lists of ways to make a transition as seamless as possible. But already I'm feeling a lightness in my step that has little to do with the fact that I'm back to wearing shorts and flip-flops.
Baby steps towards wherever the future will send us!
Congrats. Take care
ReplyDeleteThanks, Theresa!
DeleteCongratulations on taking a step towards your new normal. You are making change happen in a way that works for you!
ReplyDelete