They say the phoenix rebirths itself from its own ashes. We are like that. Life is like that. One person’s nightmare is a dream for someone else. Things get better for everyone with time.
Exactly a year ago huge problems started burning at the cohousing. One fire was put out and then a brush fire wiped it all out for me by the end of June. However, the house is a new home for a new family who absolutely love it. They fell in love with the beautiful home and have painted and added landscaping and been excited about it from the get go. At first I was sad. I moved into cohousing for the community and didn’t really care about the house and it’s structure and all that. Yet I made adjustments to make it my forever home. Then in the end, I hated the community and loved the house and wished I could move it on wheels to a new location. Now I”m okay with saying good bye to the house (my touches have been painted over anyhow) and we made the new house into our new home. And I’m overjoyed a new family is loving the house. From my pain came their joy.
My new home came from someone else’s problems too. I figured I’d never be able to afford to live by the beach but I was wrong. There are condos and closer to the ground – the cheaper. Apparently my neighbors higher up pay higher prices. Views come with a price. I’m fine. On a windy day and when no delivery trucks are in the parking lot of a restaurant near by, I can see some waves. I can see the dunes. And it forces me to exercise to go walk a few blocks to the shore.
My home may also be affordable because the couple wanted a quick sale. They were divorcing and wanted it all split up and over by the end of the year. I understood. I wanted a quick sale of my cohousing house to get the heck out but that didn’t work out. More people are smarter than me and more cautious before making a commitment to a community. So instead of losing money, I can rent and wait until I get a fair price.
I feel terrible about the couple’s divorce, but it happens. I divorced my community. I guess I could have stayed and tried and tried and been miserable. Just like people who stay for the kids or for whatever excuse to stay stuck. I do feel a little better that this was their second house and not a real home where all the love started and ended. It was a vacation get away that apparently didn’t let them escape their problems. Yet it does for me. The beach helped me escape my angry mob and find peace. A bad day at the beach is still the beach.
I am rising from the ashes. And flying over the ocean with the pelicans.