Amy Collette

This week is a big change for me: Kelly, my dear friend and mentor, moved out of state. And I sold my house. Whew!

On the face of it, those things add up to a huge loss. But it feels like something else. It feels like change – no, transformation.

Kelly’s move is a long-time dream come true. She is moving to the place that feels like home, to family and friends who love her and to an environment that she thrives in.

And selling the house is a change that Tom and I have been moving toward for years. A longing for a simpler life and a freer lifestyle finally nudged us out of intertia. It feels good even though it’s been hard to leave the place we called home for so many years.

As I write this, I noticed two red dragonflies dance in the air together. It’s a confirmation for me about our change – a transformation to bring us to that “home” place we find together. The color red signifies family, the root of our being. And dragonflies are about connection to Spirit, to dreams and to joy.

The purple iris did it. Yesterday I spotted the first purple iris of the season, and I lost it. I was instantly crying for our house, for Gertrude, for my history. Those purple blooms define my connections to the house I’ve lived in for the past 14 years. After we bought the house, my husband Tom taught me about flowers – how to plant them, how to care for them, what their names are. The bulbs originally came from the house Tom grew up in. The whole family gets nostalgic when they see those flowers spring up in our yard. Tom’s mother, Gertrude, loved those iris – she passed away last December.

It’s time now for us to leave this house and the purple iris behind. The tears that came when I saw them at first made me put on the brakes and think – oh, no. Maybe we’re making a mistake. Maybe we should stay here forever instead of following our hearts to new places…

And then I smiled. My guidance let me know that it was one of those transformation moments. The lesson is that there are ties here. Those ties could hold me down, or I can acknowledge, honor, and release them. One way to do that is to give myself some time to reflect, remember, and grieve. To be grateful for the good times and the beautiful memories. To thank this house for being a safe and welcome home to us and to the friends and family who have found refuge here.

Then I can move on to our next adventure. And the purple iris will be a happy touchstone to connect me to this part of my life. When they come up next year, I’ll remember.