“Sometimes the ground beneath us shifts so we can discover where our true roots are.” ~Dava Harvey
Evicted. The word stared up at me from the letter in my hands.
It was the summer of 2022, near the tail end of the Covid pandemic, when life was supposed to be settling back into normal—or so my husband and I had hoped.
I read the letter again. My chest tightened.
We’d always paid our rent on time. We’d never broken the terms of our lease.
Our landlord was selling the property. After nearly ten years, we’d have to pack up all of our belongings and find a new place to live.
We had sixty days. It felt like a gut punch.
Uncertainty ripped through me. How had the housing market changed in the last ten years? Could we find a place and move within sixty days? Could we stay in the same area? How would moving affect our lives?
It felt like someone else had suddenly slashed the roots of our stability.
With the pandemic nearing an end, my husband and I had recently started new jobs after nearly two years of unemployment. But rental rates across Southern California were climbing fast. I worried about our already shaky finances. How much would our rent increase?
My husband and I enjoyed living in the Los Angeles and Orange County area. We loved going to the museums, dining at our favorite restaurants, or spending a day at Disneyland. Even through the pandemic, we’d take our dog on walks through the local parks or on a run along the beach.
How much change could we expect? New places to shop. New neighbors. New commute.
My anxiety increased, and I dreaded the daunting task of looking through apartment and house listings. If I could’ve measured my stress level, it would’ve been off the scale.
We soon realized there was no way we could afford to stay in the same area. And we’d have to downsize to a much smaller place.
Even then, it meant a nearly thirty percent increase in rent.
Plus, having a sixty-five-pound German Shepherd made moving all the more difficult, as fewer places allowed large dogs, and many places simply restricted the breed. And there was no way we’d go anywhere without her.
The constant worry left me feeling stressed and jittery.
In the back of my mind, a relentless ticking clock counted down the days. Each second echoed louder and louder. With less than thirty days to go, we still hadn’t found a new place to live.
We both felt the strain of having to uproot our lives.
Tension ebbed and flowed between my husband and me as we continued to clean out closets and pack boxes. Though we agreed on recycling electronics, like our old TV, deciding what to do with old clothes and books left us at odds. Donate or pack? The disagreements led to frequent quarreling and bickering.
As the days continued to tick by, one unsettling question remained: Where would we end up?
Even though I wasn’t alone, I still felt adrift and disconnected.
Searching for a way to cope with all the sudden changes in my life, I tried listening to calming music, practicing meditation, and taking more walks with my dog. But I couldn’t quiet my spiraling worries.
I needed something more steadfast and turned to the ancient wisdom of the elements—earth, water, fire, air, and spirit.
My first elemental touchpoint was earth. With so much uncertainty swirling around us, I needed something steady to hold on to.
Earth reminds us of our roots—the parts of our life that remain solid even when everything else shifts. I began focusing on what was still stable: the support my husband and I gave each other, the routines we kept, and the simple grounding comfort of stepping outside and feeling the world beneath my feet.
As I steadied myself with what was still solid, another element began to flow through me—water. While earth helped me feel grounded, water taught me that emotions need room to move.
It was okay to feel sad about what we were losing. I shared my feelings with my husband, and we talked about how we each felt about this sudden change. I acknowledged my feelings and gave myself time and compassion to experience them.
Feeling more balanced by earth and assured by water, I turned to the next element—fire. Within its steady glow, fire reminded me of the strength that still burned within me.
My energy had been drained by fear and uncertainty. Looking inward at my own spark of fire, I discovered a quiet inner strength and courage that urged me forward. I focused on small actions—searching listings, making calls, and packing one more box. Each step became a reminder that even in uncertain times, the sacred flame of resilience still burned bright.
With more confidence, another element presented itself—air. As the fog of concern and worry began to clear, air offered space for clarity and inspiration.
Instead of getting caught up in the “what ifs,” I took time to pause, breathe, and look at our situation with a calmer mind. By letting go of the burden of fretting over every decision, I made way for clearer thinking. It allowed me to focus on what truly mattered and trust that step by step, we’d find our way forward.
Through the first four elements, I’d regained my sense of stability, self-compassion, inner strength, and mental clarity.
The fifth element, spirit, offered me a quiet sense of connection and alignment. Spirit reminded me that I was part of something larger than the immediate struggle I faced. Even in uncertainty, I began to trust that this change, however unwelcome, was not without purpose. I couldn’t control every outcome, but I could lean into my strengths, into resilience, and into the quiet belief that we would land where we were meant to be.
Looking back, I found much more than a new place to live. I found a new way to steady myself when life feels uncertain.
The elements became quiet guides during a time when everything else felt unstable.
Earth reminded me to return to what is solid and supportive in my life. Water helped me to flow with and through my emotions instead of fighting them. Fire rekindled the courage to keep taking the next step. Air brought the clarity I needed to make decisions with a calmer mind. And Spirit helped me trust that even difficult changes can carry meaning and that responding to change is how we grow.
Life will always bring moments that shake your sense of stability—loss, unexpected change, or seasons of uncertainty. In those moments, you may feel uprooted or unsure where to turn. Yet the same elements that exist in nature also exist within you. When you reconnect with them, you can rediscover steadiness, flexibility, resilience, lucidity, and a deeper sense of trust in your life’s path.
About Dana Harvey
Dava Harvey is a National Board–Certified Health and Wellness Coach. She is passionate about helping others reconnect with their wholeness and rise into their infinite possibility. Through a mindful, whole-health approach, she blends empowerment, alignment, and soulful healing – creating space for real balance, deeper awareness, and meaningful change. Learn more at infinityhwc.com.
