Settling into the new house continues to go well, with the usual laundry list (figurative and literal) of things to do. The great thing is, now that we're in, nothing has to be done, which is the first time in months this has been the case. Through the whole househunting process, there's been constant necessity and pressure to keep moving forward: searching, going to open houses, going on visits with our realtor, making offers, signing papers, doing inspections, completing applications, moving money around, packing, moving, and so much more. Hardly suffering; just a very different pace than what's required on the other side of it. We are in, and even though there's plenty to do, we can also rest a bit on that front (when we don't overschedule ourselves, which is rarely).
Being here at Victrola and writing here brings my mind back to other things past, treasured then neglected or just passed over as new pursuits took hold. The idea of "going back" raises big flags for me—we are no longer meant for The Garden, so to put our desire there is sorely misleading—but that's not to say there's not much to learn by reflecting on the journey and considering what passages are meant for here and for the near horizon. There's a place, a good place, for renewal and redemption.