I’ve spent a good deal of time quiet with good reason. We moved last year. A few readers know I was hoping to, one or two may even be privileged to know why. The hardest part about this was that it interfered with our lives, with many plans. I’m hoping to get back on track in the coming months and become more productive, but as we effectively moved into what was a building site I didn’t make any promises, other than I would try to write wherever, whenever possible. I’m back to writing now but that means I’ve many people screaming for work and a lot of catching up to do.
I guess reflection isn’t unusual. Some were aware we’d had too much stress in recent months, none of which we asked for, coming from all directions: work, home, personal life. Much of that made us consider our situation, especially where we were living and to ask whether it provided what we truly needed. It’s easy for anyone to get into a rut, to feel comfortable ‘enough’, but when that comfort comes mostly from convenience and at an unacceptable price, maybe it’s a good thing to reconsider options now and then. Maybe it’s a good thing under any circumstances to stop and occasionally question what one wants from life, whether we’re happy ‘enough’ or just making do.
As much as this move was in many ways difficult it was largely because our expectations failed and interfered with well-made plans. The truth is we should all plan–aim for a goal, have a direction, but as with writing most of us never get there on a straight path. The last few months–two to three years really–we put up with things that caused stress, were bewildering, perplexing, and even had to deal with other people’s silliness, pettiness, irrational fears and paranoia, including some downright bizarre behaviour from the most unexpected quarters. Yet there has been good in that.
They say things happen for a reason. I’m not certain how much I believe that, though I appreciate the sentiment–it definitely feels as if it’s true on occasion. The bad times try us, but they also reveal much of the truth. They shine a light on a particular pattern even if that’s only our daily routines, reveal true friends and false, highlight what we truly want and need. The last two weeks spent at our last address were especially tiring, yet I realise that much of it cleared our path. I stood up for myself and my other half on days I wanted to crawl back to bed and pull a pillow over my head. I found a strength I didn’t know I had and weaknesses I can work on. As things piled on, what ‘mattered’ became clearer. Best of all, we got rid of debris we didn’t even know we were carrying. Like flotsam and jetsam I threw out useless objects–in some instances solid objects, in others places or people, until I was able to wake up one morning with a lightness of being too long missing.
I left our home before last with tears as, although we wanted to leave, there were so many good memories. We talked things over and finally had to admit that no matter what we’ve done to the place, the last house had never felt like ‘home’–not in the way the one before did. We’ve been in a holding pattern, circling, waiting. Our current house may be home for a while or it may be a stop-gap on the way to our final destination. I’m happy with either option, and I’ll leave ‘this’ house smiling. Moving day was difficult for many reasons, not least of all the simple fact I hate moving, but I was ready.