An ode to the refuge givers

Two years ago I wrote a short piece for my dear friend Dani’s blog about those moments of transition and how the helpers emerged to give refuge. It’s amazing to think that might bike was a witness to a lot of these transitions and without fail – brought me back and forth without judgement.

Now on steady ground, I’m full of gratitude for those people and I hope I can do the same.

Dani's Drawers

tran·si·tion  n. Passage from one form, state, style, or place to another.

We all find ourselves in the midst of transition at some point in our lives. Between homes, cities, jobs, countries, certainty, love. We start somewhere and oftentimes without our permission, we are required to participate in this process of change from one thing to another.

I have found myself in transition many times.  21 rooms to call my own, six countries, countless friendships, a fair share of relationships, and a handful of jobs.  The moment I was making myself comfortable, I find myself here again in a kind of limbo – surrounded by both fear of scarcity and hope for abundance.   

While I value each opportunity to take a deep breath, acknowledge the journey, and take the first step – there is no doubt it’s a hard place to be in.  Constant pep talks in the…

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