A New Move to Pennsylvania

It's time to write again.

I’m sitting outside. The wind is blowing this way and that—the clouds coming and going. Birds that were close are becoming quiet. They too are listening to the thunder rumble in the heavens. I listen to my self thinking. I love this place of mine. This is a new place—this home in Pennsylvania. I moved here less than a month ago. People have asked me, why PA? My soul was drawn here to this land, the rolling hills, farmland and woods. Underneath, it is old, and the ancients in my spirit connect deeply to this rhythm.

The house, small and white, has hardwood floors and polished wood molding. The first time I walked through the door I knew—this is it. I said to the landlord: “I want it.” I hadn’t taken more than one step inside of the doorway. He looked at me. “I’m serious,” I said. “I would like to rent this place.” Over the next few days as we finalized the lease, he’d always find me first outside in the back—under the maple tree, in the field, exploring the woods. Yes, my soul called me here.

That’s when I noticed the word “mine”—“this place of mine.” This place isn’t mine. It’s true; I’m just renting it, but that’s not what I mean. I was watching the sun set through the leaves of the maple. It is one of my favorite sights, these leaves turning luminous. Light and shadow woven together as sun and wind play with the leaves—no thought for right or wrong, good or bad, mine or yours. They dance in the wind and take turns being lit by the sunlight or hid by the shadows.
I am not here to lay claim to this place. I am here to be aware—to notice my connection, to witness God’s grace that allows me to be here now. The mine I must acknowledge is the kinship that honors this connection, and returns its love. I am here in PA to start a healing practice. This house, this land, the sun, wind and sky are all a part of it. I have invited all my relations to participate. I also welcome you!