As of Sunday February 27, 2011. after nearly 13 years on what we call The New Land (the grounds near The Monroe Institute in rural Virginia), I will begin a new life in Charlottesville. Once the process got started, it went pretty quickly. A month ago, I knew I wanted to move, but hadn’t yet begun looking.
Last December, as I was passing through Charlottesville on my way home after spending Christmas at my daughter’s, out of nowhere, the thought came to me, “I’m tired of living buried out in the hills.” (Or it might have been, “buried out in the woods”; I don’t remember exactly.)
The words surprised me, because they weren’t anything I had been consciously feeling, and in fact I have loved living out in the country. And yet, for months I have felt an increasing restlessness. I could feel that a chapter in my life was ending, and I was just waiting for the next step to clarify. Now, all of a sudden, here it was.
I told the guys upstairs I wasn’t up for a long drawn-out process. I listed what I wanted and needed in a home and told them to find it for me. I searched Craigslist for houses and townhouse rentals in Charlottesville. I made lists. But I actually looked at only four places, in two days, and the second place I looked at is the one I chose. (And soon I will learn by experience what I left off my list! Hopefully nothing crucial.)
Moving on. It feels good. Life on the New Land was good to me, and for me. Since 1998 I have written and published four books, with a fifth on its way this Spring. I have had amazing experiences in the Institute’s black box, and in altered states with friends that didn’t involve technological assistance. Mostly, I have had the luxury of living in the future, meaning living among people who knew what I knew and had experienced what I had experienced.
It was great, and now I can’t wait to see what changes this new residence will bring to my life.