The Bridge

There’s a bridge in South Africa, as everyone on the planet with Windows 10 who likes nature scenes found out yesterday. So I’m not alone in this knowledge. But I feel like it’s meant for me, this picture chosen to appear on my screen. The bridge in South Africa, a land tied inextricably to the mixture of black and white, a land of unspeakable pain and breathtaking forgiveness – the bridge that crosses.

A river runs below, but that’s almost incidental. It’s the trees above and the ropes that surround and the wood plank support that pulls me in. I feel my feet on the bridge, the warmth of the sunlight through emerald leaves, and my hands on the ropes.

The intricate, looping, arched ropes. Even if I wanted to jump from the bridge, I wouldn’t be able to – beautiful, strong, solid thick ropes block my fall, curved patterns that stretch along the length of the bridge.

There’s no jumping off then. No going backwards, either. My only choice is to breathe in leaf-tinged sunlight, 

and cross.



It’s over and done. I have moved on, if not in body yet, then at least in spirit. A new lease has been signed, a ridiculous amount of money has been given for rent and deposit, and the keys will shortly be handed over. And then I have a week of being in-between – not yet entirely in one place, not yet moved out of the old one. But I feel empowered that I was able to make this happen, overcoming all real and insubstantial (but those are the most frightening, yes?) obstacles.

The biggest reason why this is so empowering, so wonderful, is that I made it happen on my own. I really love that. When I moved into the current apartment, I said that I wouldn’t leave it until I could move in with someone else, could rent a house that cost twice as much as my apartment rent (that’s just the lowest going rate for a small, basic 3-bedroom house in my area – we’re not talking anything fancy here) with me contributing half, and then I’d have my backyard and my quiet home and my trees and my laundry that didn’t cost quarters anymore.

A little over three years later, still single, I found I couldn’t even afford where I was anymore, because the landlords kept raising the rent and it was just getting too high and I tried working myself to the bone to pay for all this and that just made me miserable. Time to find a cheaper place, on my own, and resign myself to the fact that it would be worse than what I have now. It would help in other ways (didn’t I write about that a few posts ago?), but would be overall a step down.

Instead, I found…I found exactly what I needed. It’s not a stand-alone house, but it’s a triplex, and when you pull into your own driveway and park your car into your own garage and then walk across the driveway to your own front door, that just feels like a house. It’s on a very quiet, peaceful little street – the energy there is incredibly serene, on this little hill. And it has trees, both in the little front yard, and the backyard. It has a backyard! And it has laundry that doesn’t need quarters anymore. So I’m going down to just one bathroom, so what? My daughters just come in and use mine whenever they want anyways (including in the middle of the night), so this’ll actually give me a bit more privacy since they won’t barge in anymore. And finally, it’s about $200 less per month.

Not at all what I thought I could do on my own, but I did, and I’m moving to my hilltop treehouse in the city soon. And then I’ll be able to finally breathe.

A Good Start

I didn’t plan it this way when we booked the trip months ago, but it turned out, I traveled to Mexico under a full moon. Now, I love full moons. I’ve always loved the moon, and these past few years, as I’ve learned about metaphysical energy and become more and more mystical over time, the moon has just grown in importance to me. My favorite stone is even the moonstone. And when I decided to change my Hebrew name last year to mark this transition into a new year, I changed it to Levana, which means whiteness and purity and moon and all of those wonderful things. Since then I’ve changed it further, adding the name I was born under, to become Sarai Levana in my tribe.

But I digress (what else is new?)…the point is, I started this Journey under a full moon. And last night, as we dined on the beach, it was simply one the most magical moonrises I’ve ever seen.

A huge orange harvest moon rose up out of the ocean. Incredible on it’s own for about an hour. And then it transformed into white, and lit up the entire ocean below. A postcard picture of sparkling water under a perfect white full moon. Yes, I wrote a new poem about it (Moonlight, on Yes, I got a picture, which I can’t post just yet (technical difficulties), because you really need to see this. But the picture just won’t match the magic of the moment…it was truly stunning.

So that’s a good omen and good start if I ever saw one. Life is full of beauty and wonder…something to take with me for those stressful moments.