Today our tenants moved in, and I gave up my dream home. I have anticipated this day for a long time — I’ve yearned for this to happen — so I was surprised to find myself feeling weepy when our house filled up with boxes and furniture I have never seen before.

Moving boxes in our kitchen, February 2011
The boxes in our kitchen today aren't ours.

This is it. It’s what we wanted and now we have it.

We have moved out of our home; someone else lives there now. Someone else will wander around our spacious house, someone else will check on their children in the bedrooms down the hall, someone else will sit on the lawn while watching their children play.

This is the only house that has been a home for us. We have loved it and have renovated every square inch of it. I’ve dreamed over the decorations and sought to fill it with beautiful things. But I’ve had to put it all away. All our beautiful things are in boxes, so I’ve held tightly onto the house’s solid state for the last year.

So to turn it over to relative strangers is difficult. But we do it in faith.

As we have been happy here, we pray they will find happiness. As we are moving away from our iniquity and ego and pursuing righteous enlightenment, we pray that they will follow this path too. We pray that they will show generous hospitality and value their children — as we have done in this peaceful place. When they go outside and lie on the carpet and look at the moon, watch the planes in the distance and hear the hum of the motorway, may they be at peace within themselves, the Creator and with each other.

For the next week, we’re living in the shed. We have a walls, a roof, electricity and a tap with running water, which gives us enormous wealth when compared to the world’s masses. We’ve laid out mattresses for the girls to sleep on — David and I will sleep in the trailer.

We’re deliberately learning to live with less. We’ve downsized — something we’ve been desiring for years. It’s a managed collapse.

In this new chapter of our lives, our girls won’t know a home of their own. They’ll rely on the generosity of strangers and the strength and unity of their parents.

David and I are so together in this transition — giving up our beautiful home is worth the richer marriage relationship. Now I press past the moving blues and deliberately look forward to the next set of nomadic adventures.

Watch out, world. Here we come!