On Loving and Leaving

Have you ever been in a situation that on the surface looks perfect? But beneath, in moments of stillness, you hear something pulling you from the heart, like a gentle whisper saying "there's something else you're meant to do in this one wild and precious life."

And so it goes, that if you do not listen to the gentle whisper, life has a way of knocking you on your ass and insisting you move on.

This is the situation I found myself in round about 2021 when I had a job as a professor at a top liberal arts college, teaching in a field I had dedicated my entire adult life to mastering. And yet, when I looked at the mountains in the distance something ached with the echo of an identity I had not yet inhabited, waiting impatiently to surface into the present moment. My heart was sure there was something different out there for me. My brain hadn't caught up yet. And so it goes, that if you do not listen to the gentle whisper, you will find yourself on your ass. Thats a story for another time, in the company of friends and drink, as the light goes down behind the mountains.

The dissolution of that identity, painful as it was, led to an identity so much more ME, like a creature shedding a skin that no longer fit. I emerged with the voice from my heart suddenly the voice that spoke for me all the time, to those around me, to the strangers who passed by my art in the forest, to anyone who would listen. This is me. I see you. It is OKAY to be something different. It is OKAY to move towards your own center. This is when Growing In Process was born.

And yet, in the quiet moments of spring, when I looked at the cherry trees outside my window, I knew in my heart they were not mine forever. I knew in my heart I would some day need to leave them. But did I listen?? Of course not! I love my cherry trees! Not only that, I love the snow drops that pop up in the spring. I planted irises along the front border of my life, as though they could somehow hold me in.

And now, I guess, is the moment that I stop waxing poetic and move on to the hard facts. Life has once again something more in mind for me and my family, and I really hope to emerge on the other side as some sort of wild wonderful creature fully in control of her own wings. Of course right now, I don't see that version of myself (she is still only a whisper), so it just feels really scary. I think it is OKAY to be afraid of a change that feels greater than your current identity. That is very human.

My family will be moving this winter. Not by choice...we've been renting the same place for about 8 years and it is now being sold. The new owners have plans that don't include renting. And so, at this moment, I am on my ass. Two small children, a life full of relationships and connections and heavy STUFF (aka BOOKS), and a mandated move-out notice that lands the week before Christmas.

This weekend I dug up the irises from the front border of my yard. I didn't dig them all up; I love the idea of driving by this house one day and feeling pride that I've left my legacy. The time and seasons spent here that will bloom for someone else some day, like the snow drops that appeared each spring, begging me to wonder who had planted them, begging me to hope that sun would soon fill my days.

Growing In Process will continue, hopefully in a shape that is more inhabited, with more room to grow into herself. I can't promise that right now, because I can't see the future. I can feel my heart speaking, and she says it will be better, it will be OKAY.

I may be quieter here this next few months. That doesn't mean I am any less determined; it simply means that I am tending to other fires, working on keeping my family safe and housed, and recalibrating for a future I was always too afraid to see.

As the holiday gifting season approaches, if you've had an eye on a painting or palette, please consider purchasing. Every little bit of support helps, and (quite frankly), I'd rather ship these paintings and palettes off to new forever homes than figure out what to do with them while the studio is in transition. If there is a print you want, in a size you want, or a card you want that isn't listed, please let me know and I am happy to create it/list it for you--just email me to get in touch! I will continue to make all my own cards and prints in house for the next month-and-a-half or so, but may take a break for the end of the year, and first month or so of 2026, while I am in transition.

Thank you for being on this wild and wonderful journey with me. Breathe deeply, love fiercely, and let's trust that the rest will follow.

Mira

Artist, Growing In Process