Kevin here. . .

Things have been a little weird the past few months with so much going on with moving. Many, many changes happened so quickly. It has been challenging, but I also noticed that it all has been working out really well. Vicki observed the same thing, and she recently sent me a card saying, “And suddenly, out of nowhere, things went terribly right.”

About six months ago, Vick started contemplating leaving the ranch. She approached me with trepidation thinking I never would agree. After all, I had said I wanted to die at the place. However, it turned out that I had been thinking about leaving as well.

We started polishing the place up to sell, and I figured it would take six months of work to get it ready and then maybe a year or two to sell. We contacted a realtor specializing in outdoor properties, and they went kinda nuts when they toured the place and saw all the wildlife and overwhelming beauty of early spring in the marsh. They suggested we put  it on the market then and there rather than waiting until we fixed it up. To our amazement, the second buyers made a full price offer, and we were in contract a week later with a 30-day escrow.

We needed a septic easement from one neighbor and a well agreement with another. Done. I was terrified that our complex reverse osmosis water treatment plant (affectionately named Sally) would discourage the buyer. Turns out the father/husband of the buying family is a plumber specializing in the equipment rooms of large buildings. Go figure. We wondered what the buyer would make of our “Sacred Love Yurt,” the dome Vick and I made and dedicated to the divine feminine. The wife/mother is an artist who loves to meditate, and she was enchanted. One bedroom (our massage room) is painted fuchsia with a purple carpet. . .their youngest daughter loves it.

Cleaning, packing, moving all had their challenges, and each seemed overwhelming. But as the month went on, we completed tasks one after another, and obstacles seemed to melt away. Vick pinched a nerve in her back early in the process but even that had a silver lining. She had to leave the packing to me and realized that I would totally follow through. . .she didn’t need to worry because I would not let her down. I wrote a detailed manual on how to run and maintain everything on the property: ATVs, boats, irrigation system, water treatment plant, grey water system, greenhouse, and automatic chicken door to name just a few of the many systems. I was satisfied and comforted to know that I had done everything I could to help the new owners succeed and thrive in a challenging environment.

And then it was over

The beautiful life that Vick and I had built together during our time on the ranch was completely disrupted. And yet, the two of us managed to stay connected, present, and loving. The travails deepened our faith in each other.

Now, we are in our new temporary home in Palm Springs. I expected some remorseful second-guessing, but it hasn’t happened. We are resting up, taking a deep breath as we let go of the sense of urgency that drove us over the last several months. We swim and walk and read and make love.  We have long dinners watching dusk fall on the warm desert night as bats flutter silently overhead. A hummingbird currently sits on a tiny, perfect nest in our atrium.

In search of some nearby nature, we drove up to the San Bernardino National Forest last week. Forty-five minutes away, we found beautiful meadows dotted with pines and covered in wildflowers. Orange and pink, purple and white, the fields of flowers glowed with 10,000-foot mountains as a backdrop. I painted for a couple of hours, and then we drove farther up the road for a late lunch at a Japanese/American fusion restaurant. All unexpected and delightful.

It feels like a big adventure. Even with all the previous stress, we are more confident in each other, closer, and more loving. And, the easy way it all fell together is a gift, a message from the universe that all is well and we are following our soul path.

“And suddenly, out of nowhere, things went terribly right.”

Victoria here. . .

Well, we survived the moving process. Three weeks after packing up and leaving the ranch, the stress has dissolved, and we are finally where we want to be. . . feeling like things will work out after all.

Nevertheless, the future is still mostly unknown. Will we be comfortable in our new home, will we create meaningful work and make new friends. . . even, we will adapt to living in the desert? I wonder because it’s hot here, right now at 9:00 am it’s 102ºF and rising.

We’ve turned up the heat in our lives as well with all these unknowns, but that also means new experiences and interests are now ours to explore.

Vital vs Idle

Let’s get this straight: Kevin and I are not retiring, even though we are both old enough to be in assisted living. We choose to set up our lives so that we continue to grow together, experiencing all the challenges and excitement that starting over promises.

Without the day-to-day responsibilities of the ranch, we can concentrate on what we really want to do. How creative can we be with our lives? Right now, Kevin is painting in the other room while I write. Later today, during the long hot afternoon, we’ll get the massage table out and spend time enjoying each other. How cool is that?

We’re excited about starting fresh and making our new house a home—painting it with livelier colors and turning the backyard into a tropical paradise with trailing bougainvillea, palms, and maybe a banana tree. I fantasize about building a chicken coop (air-conditioned, of course) so that we have fresh eggs again.

I’m excited about the new life that awaits us! The struggle that we overcame was more than worth it. And best of all, I’m starting this new life with my beloved Kevin.

Have you embarked on a new life? If so, let us know in the comments below!