The last two months of letting go are culminating this Wednesday when my Realtor comes to take photos of my mostly-vacant home.

I gotta be honest, I’m freaking out a little. Last weekend I sold approximately 75% of my worldly belongings in 8 hours. I sat in my driveway and, with the help of my amazing friends and community, I watched it all saunter off into the future, spread across 100 families — little pieces of my life nesting in cupboards, closets, coffee tables and bookshelves in homes of folks I’ve never seen before and never will again. Just a yard sale to them. To me, an integral step towards a new and uncertain future.

I suppose saying I sat in my driveway sounds a bit passive. In truth, I engaged pretty hard with that day. At one point, I was stripped down to my camisole (worthy of note: I live on a very busy 4-lane road) trying on every piece of clothing I had for sale in an impromptu fashion show for a woman who needed some help visualizing. I laughed, talked, hugged and haggled all day long. By the time it was over, I was tired down to my marrow — both physically and emotionally — and I still had so much work to do. As I sat glassy-eyed around the fire pit with friends that night, explaining for the 438th time that day why I was doing what I was doing, I realized that some part of me was on auto-pilot.

Last week was landscaping, final cosmetic touches to the house (patching paint, caulking tub, hanging lights.) This week is Realtor photos and a much-needed long weekend at the beach with my girlfriend. Right now, it is 10 minutes to midnight, at which point it’s exactly one week to the listing of the house.

These days I’m rattling around this mostly-empty house like a ghost. I’m caught in that limbo between what was and what’s to be. I feel like the house has shifted energetically. I may still hold the deed, but it’s not mine anymore. Everything I intend to keep is either “staged” to make the house as appealing as possible to buyers, or packed away in my shed, ready to go. I am meticulous the way I would be if I was a guest in someone else’s home. No dishes in the sink. Everything goes right back where it belongs when I’m done with it. I am the temporary thing here in this life.

I’m such a planner, but I have to say — these days, my mantra is “Jump and the net will appear.” Let’s hope I’m right.