I've long been of the mind that right before you give something up -- a car...a neighborhood...definitely a relationship -- you allow yourself to be annoyed by that thing.

Although I hate moving, there are a lot of positives that emerge during the process, and they aren't just the simple pleasures of de-cluttering.

in the United States we have a somewhat less open tolerance for this chapter of being. One might even say that we're still in the closet about the subject. Why are we so tight lipped about this natural process?

Here is the longing inside all of us: that we are fearless enough to embark upon those adventures, but that as we go we are inspired and propelled by a sense of home waiting for us at the other end.