Seven years ago I sold my cute little story-and-a-half near the University,  put my stuff into storage and set out on a walkabout. A journey of exploration that my soul calls me to every decade or so. To be fair this was more of a planes, trains and automobile situation than a trek. Although I did climb a peak at Machu Picchu, a volcano in Galapagos, and Hadrian’s Wall on the border between England and Scotland. 

Having satisfied my wanderlust (for a while anyway), I came home to put down roots again. I was focused on age proofing my future and had my eye on a little bungalow. A fixer upper in a working class neighbourhood where all the houses look the same and are being bought by up by ambitious young men and subdivided into apartments to meet the current housing shortage. I got the house for a good price and hired a contractor with the talent to make all my all hopes and dreams come true. 

Like the ambitious young men I spoke of, we divided the house into two apartments. We replaced the roof and furnace and some of the windows, laid new floors, put in new kitchens and bathrooms, and over the years since have added new steps, new fencing, a new deck, patio, driveway and new plantings. The place is beautiful now. The income suite is rented. I am content. And yet…  

It’s always “and yet” with me. No matter how satisfied I am in the moment, my mind is always questing. Seeking new adventure. Wondering what could be. 

Yesterday, I was taking Rosie for a walk when I saw a FOR SALE sign on a house that looks very much like mine. Curious, I headed home to check the listing. The house is similar in layout to my own. It’s in 1970’s condition but I can see what it could be with a little money and a little work. The list price is attractive. I’m savvy enough to know this is likely bait to attract a bidding war but I took it gently in my mouth regardless. 

I opened my browser to search “the wisdom of investing in real estate as you approach retirement”. Opinions vary. (To be fair, I doubt the word retirement even applies to someone like me who pretty much makes up my life, work and income as I go and has no interest in doing nothing. But it was the most delicate way I could think of to address my age.) I mentioned the property to my son Cameron when he came to pick up the dog. Would he consider renting a place like that? He said he prefers to live somewhere more modern. And I felt a little air go out of my balloon.

Today, with a clearer head, I wonder what it was about that little house that made my heart beat faster. Do I really want to repeat the house renovation project? Is this where I can invest my time, energy and money for the best returns? 

One thing going for this project is that I’ve done a renovation before with great result and I’m pretty sure I could pull it off again. It would be a lot of work but a solid choice with a predictable outcome. Everyone says it’s good to be cautious as you approach your senior years.

In my last post I wrote about the middle aged woman in her Mini Cooper. Taking to the road with her notebook, seeking out adventure and making art along the way. I’ve been taking steps to follow her lead. Reformed my business around the themes of creativity and imagination. Invited others to join me on my walkabouts. Organised one of what I hope to be a series of small group expeditions to explore the world and make art from our experiences. I’m writing again in ernest. Creating branded merchandise in my head.

Is security a Siren then? The bricks of this little house, the rocks she sits on?

Is the house a diversion to suck up all my time and energy at home so I have none left to entertain or follow my foolish notions? Foolish in reference to the first card of the traditional tarot deck, The Fool. 

Maybe having built my own safe harbour I have all the security I need. And what I truly want now is not more safety but more courage. Having proved myself already, maybe the task now is to trust myself. To hold to the uncharted course long enough to discover what treasure I may find there.

Three morals in this story (the final one repeated from the Mini Cooper Post)

1. We all need our safe harbours in life.
2. But security can be a Siren.
3. Even the good girls die.

  Yours with creativity and imagination,

Darlene