Five years...

I moved into my house five years ago today. I didn't know it at the time but my marriage was unraveling. I didn't know how bad the hard times we're going to be, and didn't know that my journey would challenge and transform me in ways that I still don't quite understand.

I didn't want to buy the house I now own. I wanted a townhouse, but my wife at the time really wanted the one she found with the realtor she was working with.

But, I own it now. And, I can choose to focus on the positive moment rather than the traumatic ones that I fixated on.

First and foremost, it's my stage. It's a place for me to be alone so I can sing and play guitar to my heart's content. I can let myself go and explore whatever strange alchemy allows me to let my mind go and do two things at once in an effort to craft whatever style I'm crafting. One day I will be brave enough to work with others, but for now, I am safe in my house.

If I look into my heart and mind, I don't have a shred of bitterness or sadness related to the end of my marriage. My children are part of my life, and I'm a happy co-parent again, working with my their mother and her partner.

Second, I live in a great location. I can walk to the park. I can walk to my gym. I'm close to a school that my children will go to when they are older. I am on a bus line (for now).

Third, I believe that good things will continue to occur there in the future. I've had four sets of tenants living in my second bedroom upstairs, and that time is about to end. The fifth set of tenants will be my children, who will finally have their own spot in my house.

Fourth is that being underwater means lower taxes. That coupled with a recent refinance means that I am playing a much lower mortgage payment.

So, in general, it's okay. It's all okay. I have a place I call home, and I have earned that.