As I get ready to leave my sweet little home in Cape Town, I am filled with gratitude for the walls that have held me and the city that has healed me.

I have said many times that I would never sell this house. It has been an anchor for me. The same goes for Cape Town, city of my soul.

To my surprise, my feelings about leaving are not mixed at all.

I keep waiting for waves of melancholy as I tick off the practical tasks of closing this chapter, making mental notes and pictures of the many things I will miss.

Is this my last summer’s evening walk on Devil’s Peak, the mountain up the road that has held me through happiness and heartbreak?

Is this my last dip in Saunders’ Rock Tidal Pool, where I have washed away hangovers and regrets and welcomed the New Year and new love?

Instead of sadness, I feel grateful for the opportunity to begin again, for the raw potential of what lies ahead.

I am excited to break a lifetime of city habits and head for my little patch of earth in the countryside.

Cape Town continues to feed my body, heart and soul.

It is a city I have feasted in and on for almost two decades.

My connection to the Mother City feels visceral, like an umbilical cord connected to its heartbeat.

I have experienced so much, and I continue to be surprised by new things: urban walks and mountain hikes, theatre that has made me laugh and theatre that has made me cry, beaches and tidal pools, the best restaurant scene per capita in the world.

I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the years that have gone by in this city and in this home.

It’s the kind of gratitude that shakes things loose, that makes me want to run barefoot, swim naked and howl at the moon. I can bring all those parts of me out of hiding now.

I am wildly grateful for the opportunity that awaits, for the space, the stillness and the blank canvas of a little piece of land.

Older, wiser people say that life has its reasons and its seasons, that all good things must come to an end and that as one door closes, another opens.

I feel a little like an older, wiser person now.

Maybe I should be a little afraid. But as I tie my laces to walk away, there’s no space left in my head or my heart for fear.