Late on Friday we heard the words we’d been wondering about ever since the stay-at-home orders started:
"We want you here right away."
And what that means is that -- In just about a month from now -- Ben needs to be in Pennsylvania to report in for his new assignment. I’ll follow a week or two later, after the movers come, with Dylan and Skye.
So in the next six weeks we need to
sell our house
ship our cars
and move two households, a toddler and a dog across the country (my mom is moving too).
During a pandemic.
Which brings up all this uncertainty. And the whole hassle of it all.
And the possibility that the movers will damage beloved heirlooms … and lose every single one of my blouses, dress pants, and belts ... many of them painstakingly collected in NYC sample sales and Morrocan medinas ... and NONE of them fully reimbursable because of course nobody saves clothing receipts from those places … or ANY places!!
(That actually happened when we moved here to Colorado three years ago. So it could totally happen again, right?! Or worse!)
As you can imagine, none of this feels very … comfortable.
But then again, the icky feelings that come with moving are just like the ones that come from ANY change in life.
Because the truth is that where you are right now reflects EXACTLY where you feel you should be.
(Not where you feel you WANT to be, but where deep down you feel you should be. Because it’s what’s safe or known or COMFORTABLE.)
So it stands to reason that it’s inherently UNcomfortable to change ...
We think about that new destination we want to get to and it sounds so GREAT! Omg it’s going to be amazing.
Until it’s really time to do something, and then we start thinking about ...
… what could go wrong in the future
… the extra time, effort or money we’ll "waste"
… what went wrong in the past
That’s when lots of people feel the discomfort, and they pull back.
They think it means they chose the wrong destination.
Or they need to prepare more first.
Or it was never really realistic anyway.
Or maybe they busy themselves with something else so they don’t actually have to think about it at all!
But hopefully, not you …
Because the visionary in you knows it’s time to find out what’s truly possible.
So what's a girl to do to actually get from "here" to "there"?
Here's one way I'm leaning on my inner visionary:
It’s a Wednesday in August, and I’m sitting down to write you a note...
I’m telling you how much I love my new little East Coast town and the way the ivy covers the old brick buildings just like you see in pictures. I’m sitting in the beautiful home office I created, and Dylan is delighting in the magical fireflies that come out at dusk.
Skye thinks she’s died and gone to heaven because the neighborhood kids regularly come play ball with her, and Ben strolls home each day for lunch and again when he’s done teaching.
Everything’s so compact that we really don’t have to drive anywhere … but if I want to, I can hop on a train and be in Manhattan in just a few hours!
And all that stuff I wrote about back in May? Sure, I had butterflies. But they were manageable. And it was worth it.
The uncertainty. The hassle. The discomfort.
It was all so, so worth it.
💛 Jenna
P.S. And my things made it here fine ;-)