creating a different life

It was late…late in the year, late in the month…and it felt like it was getting late in my life too. I sat outside, enjoying the yard that I had created, from building the fence to laying the sod to putting in the raised beds and planting flowers and veggies in every corner. The spa turned itself on, heating the water to be ready for them moment I chose to slip in for a hot soak. The place made me smile that special secret smile that says, "This is mine! My personal paradise - created for me by me."
I had that same feeling when I went inside. The fixer-upper I bought was no longer recognizable in the freshly finished oak floors, the vibrant colors in every room with bright white trim, and updates everywhere I looked. I had even taken the two back bedrooms and turned them into a 'master' suite, adding a bath and closet, and even a slider to the back yard. I could literally go from my bed to my hot tub in about 10 steps. I designed and created the entire space and was so happy with the results. This was my final home: the last place that I would live. It was perfect! I went to the closet to grab a sweater, then went to the fridge for a beer before heading back outside.
The sun was setting now; hummingbirds zipped from lily to climatis, their wings creating that soft whoosh sound that I love. The greens took on a vibrant hugh, the tidy rows of spinach, beets, and carrots sending their leaves up to find the last of the light. The huge oak tree two streets down whose outline I had burned in my memory was fading with the light, becoming a magical moving silhouette. I sank into the adirondack with a satisfied sigh. Home was sweet indeed.
As the night bloomed with it's own life, the near-empty beer bottle dripping the last of its sweat onto the patio floor, a familiar feeling of lateness burst wide open inside me - again.
There was an internal struggle against the familiar and comfortable, the beautiful known, and all the rest of what could be. Didn't I always yearn for a different life? Didn't I always picture myself traveling around the world, going to strange and exotic places for months and years at a time? But this home, this life, these gardens, they existed because I made them, and they were a reflection of the woman I am, and they are safe and comfortable, and mine. But it's getting late, and if I am to have a different life, I must leave this lovely sanctuary! The war raged inside me as I left my clothes on the stairs and slipped into the hot tub to soak away the tensions created by this unending internal ranting.
The warm summer nights cooled while the arguments in my head heated up, until I knew that my heart would never settle for the life I had created. It was getting late and if I was going to go, it had to be soon. Surprisingly, once the decision was made, a new kind of excitement arose inside me, growing like fiddleheads, uncurling and spreading to the tips of my fingers and toes. I felt energized and newly alive!