We are moving. Some say that moving is up there with death, marriage, divorce and childbirth as one of the major life stresses. Plus, my older daughter, Mariel, graduated from high school in June and is preparing to leave for college. Ch-ch-ch-changes.I've lived in this house for 23 years. I moved here in 1986 with my first husband. I really tried to shed my artsy, independent ways and embrace a traditional suburban life style. I started shopping at Talbots. We decorated in off-whites and damask and furniture from North Carolina, commuted in and out of NY on the train, and held small, formal dinner parties with our wedding china and flatware. "Flashdance Girl" tried to become "Brie Vandekamp." Needless to say, that didn't work. After my divorce, the house blossomed as I reclaimed myself -- becoming colorful, bright, eclectic, and bold.
For the past 15 years, it's been a very happy place. But I am ready to leave it. As we staged the house, we painted over our plum bedroom ceiling, purple living room trim, and red closet door. My husband, who moved into this riot of color when we married 10 years ago, says I am saying goodbye to the house one color at a time. But I am excited to enter our new house with him -- to have a blank canvas to color together.
And I am grateful, in a funny way, for this period of turmoil. It's easy to be peaceful and calm and serene and loving when all is going well. But rocky roads are a truer test of spiritual growth. So this time period, full of change and the unknown, offers a ripe arena for practice. I'm buckling my seatbelt, ready for a bumpy ride!
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