It’s my first week in my new home and I couldn’t feel more content.
As any other Monday, I awoke at 5:30AM; my love Haku, laying next to me in slumber.
I made coffee because it’s a cold and foggy day and I think of the clouds that surround the mountains and imagine I’m sitting amongst them in my little home.
God, do I love this place.
I was terrorized by my family about what ifs and this should be that way and why, what, when, who, where, and hows and as much as I’m used to it, I’m tired of it every single time.
But I’m grateful for family anyways.
I think back to my first apartment in DTLA and how freeing it felt to be on my own–to have my own space.
Now, it’s a new kind of freedom. It’s as if I had my own apartment before and now I have my own house.
I know it’s not the size of most homes but consider it a “tiny home”. Because technically that’s what it is…minus the bathroom.
And as much as my family may hate on it, I don’t think I could be happier.
A backyard, front area, garden, skylight, loft!
The silence, the calm, the mountain fog, the cold!
How blessed could I be? How can I let anyone change my mind from that?
It’s my first week in my new home and I feel as if I have somehow upgraded from my first apartment.
I mean yeah sure, I have to share the bathroom with a roommate but she’s so cool and has been feeding me ever since I got here. And we get each other.
So complain and talk all you want.
I’ll be outside playing with my plants.
Praying in my temple loft.
Receiving the blessings that continuously flow into my life.
Speaking to God.
Feeding my Haku.
Making new friends.
Decorating my home.
Enjoying the breeze.
Enjoying this fog.