It’s March and spring equinox is just a few weeks away. It’s a time of fasting and abstinence for the Baha’is and it’s lent for Christians.  I wrote this blog post last year, and it captures a lot of what I feel this time of year, with slight variations, of course.

In many ways by the time I get to this time of year, I begin to feel an itch and a desire to shift gears. I have an inkling of a reawakening as though I want to start poking up new shoots.  I feel antsy in a messy space, and I want to remove the clutter.  This year, I am feeling the letting go piece more profoundly.  I have just moved continents 9 months ago, and our transition has been pretty smooth, mostly due to the generosity of my sister, brother-in-law and their kids.  They welcomed us into their home and allowed us to live with them in such comfort and support. I can’t imagine going through this transition on our own.  We have shared the load when it came to cooking, cleaning, errands, looking after kids, and all of it has been so (surprisingly!) smooth.  One normally enters into a long term co-existing situation with some trepidation wondering at what point there will be an issue, or just when the two parties might grow tired of each other and a bit fed up.  While this arrangement has not been without challenges, I am actually in awe of how easy it has been for our two families to co-exist in one space.

So, now that we are so so close to leaving and moving into our own home, rather than excitement, there this sense of trepidation, and even a sense of loss.  I didn’t anticipate the emotional upheaval this time would bring, and I have not bolstered myself up in preparation. You could say this kind of snuck up on me in the midst of all the work it has been to try and get our home ready.

Funnily enough, in just the past week, I had this conversation with my sister and the thoughts began to form into words for the first time.  A few days later I had a conversation with a friend about openness, and it struck me how openness and surrender are the same thing in so many ways. There is a relinquishing of control and allowing for things to unfold as they should.

So here I am, at the beginning of March, preparing to move into my first home, preparing to leave my sister’s home and our refuge since we arrived in Canada, and hoping and praying to find grace and openness, but having it feel a lot more like surrender.  And now I remind myself of what I know to be true – the letting go of the old to make space for the new.  That this journey is evolving, that loss is not loss without learning and growth.  That we are constantly a work in progress.

This short respite will be remembered and cherished as a time in my family’s life when we were held and supported through a very big transition.  And my gratitude pours out to my sister and her whole family for their utmost generosity, sacrifice, caring and love. We will not soon forget it.

And now? I suppose onward we go. Into the wild unknown of Canada as homeowners. Time to take the training wheels off and see if we can ride alone.

(with so much love and gratitude to Nassim, Erfan, Leo, Lua and Ava)