The signals were all there, but I kept going in the opposite direction, on the road away from the new door, because I’d gotten used to the door I had.
Today the road is closing, it’s going to be shut before too long, hardly long enough to pack it all up, the newly purchased furnishings, drapes, lighting, towels———-and going in the boxes, into storage. The fifth renovate, refurbish, and move play. Three acts-repeating themselves.
Where the new door will open is uncertain, more of these adventurous in livingness tests that I write about.
The inner voice where gaps of expression are liberated. 
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