“It’s a dangerous business, Frodo,” Bilbo Baggins once told his young nephew, “going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.”
It seems apt to consider this as I settle into a brand new six-month lease on the apartment, the end of which signifies the arrival of this moment: I have sold all my things, have naught but a box of books and a bag of clothing, and I’m getting on a plane to Edinburgh, Scotland, and a brand new thing. A chapter, my little writerly heart wants to make it, though it seems like the beginning of something longer, more abiding — part two.
I am truly thrilled.
[There was a great deal more to this, but it said a lot of nothing. The truth is that I’m moving house, home and heart and I feel like I should be scared but I’m not and that’s actually quite nice.]