At sixty-two, I’m finally sleeping around. Never before, in my history of moves, have I had nine addresses on the books at once. I’m house-dating. Well, the house I left behind in Roseville, California may not qualify. It’s more like the person I was in love with before the speed dating took over.

But that’s not the only way I don’t recognize myself these days.

Ahead of me, somewhere in “the upcountry” of Maui, is my new home. While future homemate, Linda, and I wrap up the business and pleasure of our mainland lives, homebody Karren Louise befriends Craig’s List in search for right three-bedroom, two-bath. As she reports back her findings—complete with pictures—I’m looking over at a “me” I'm not familiar with.

This person--we’ll call her “Mauidel” (compliments of my friend, Betsy Hartwell)--is completely at ease allowing someone else to determine not only the town she’ll live in, but the house she’ll call home. Such ease reflects trust in Karren Louise of course, a woman in touch with her body and her intuition, but it connotes a larger trust too. Has my longtime mantra, “Trust the Process” simply kicked into some crazy high gear I didn’t know existed? Have I fallen into a vat of trust champagne that I’ve just been sipping from all these years? Or is it that once I decided to do something as radical as move to Maui, I gave up sweating the details?

In the space between my former residence and my unidentified new one, I’m living the elusive life of a gypsy. I would have been kicked out of the trek-happy Sagittarian Travel Club if, in fact, they had made the error of letting me in. As the least-traveled Sag I know, I get the feeling I’m suddenly making up for time. Here in Portland where all my children and grandchildren live, I’ve already put down temporary roots in three households and slept better than I do at home on a green couch, a red couch, and a blue blow-up bed. Tomorrow I leave for Idaho to visit my mother, my siblings, and their offspring; but rather than come straight home I’ll return to Portland for another round of gypsying my way through these three beloved households.

Once back in Sac, as the three-week countdown begins, I’ll lightly settle into four more homes before flying off into the bright unknown. I’m heading into a life I’ve created but can’t yet visualize, which may be why I'm not recognizing myself these days. But I have to say, that in the presence of Mauidel, I feel deeply, comfortably, contentedly at home wherever I go. I’m sure those feelings will ride the waves of change in the coming weeks, but for now, I love being bedded down with them.