at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny.
Paulo Coelho, The Devil and Miss Prym
Yesterday a great friend of ours scoped out our new house for us. We came upon this particular house after finding THE school for Kiddo and it all felt like fate. The stars aligned and I felt certain we were meant to dwell in this particular abode. We will be renting for the foreseeable future, as we are unsure what life will look like post-kiddo and post-grad school, and in general we need a break from home ownership. The house was occupied while we were visiting and we weren't able to see the inside, so we took a leap of faith and put down a deposit anyway. Sometimes you just have to believe in the dream, you know?
A series of events still largely unknown to us took place and it has just become available for viewing in the last few days. Only, those pesky 3000 miles between us and our new house complicate things. Luckily, we have the best kind of friends nearby and our buddy Troy met with the property manager on our behalf and snapped some photos. We weren't overly concerned, as the house is fairly new, bigger than our current residence, and the location is spot on.
As I looked at the photos and began to loosely understand the floor plan, a special brand of anxiety creeped in. It doesn't look like what I'd imagined. The setup is vastly different, in fact. And although it's not bad at all, it's different. I wasn't prepared for different. The life changes are becoming all too real in the days leading up to our departure and change + different = funky head space. Then I spiraled. What if it's wrong? All of it? What if we are making the wrong leap? What if we start fresh and everything ends up the same? The fears were nonspecific, just an abstract swirling of wrong, wrong, wrong around my brain.
I realized, in those anxious moments, that things have finally gotten real real and I'm grasping for the familiar. Our house now, though it never felt quite like home, is familiar. As I laid next to Mario last night, watching our usual television show, the desire to conserve what we have was profound. Not the house or the things or the lifestyle; they have little sway in my life.
I'm nervous something could change between us. Our dynamic. Our routines and the ways in which we show our love for each other. What if more than just our location shifts in the process? That's what really terrifies me.
You see, I want things to change. But not every thing. I want a fresh start with new surroundings, new opportunities, and a shiny new future. Things we could not achieve so successfully living where we are now. Fundamentally, I want our lives to stay the same. So I'm scared of rocking the boat. What if the routines I do love aren't the same? That would devastate me! Which oozes into self doubt. Because I'll only have myself to blame if we lose something along the way.
This morning brought a new day and a new perspective. And although I'm still feeling a bit rattled by the realness of all of it, I realize that change is inevitable. Kiddo isn't going to stay a kid forever. Our house is going to look and feel different; perhaps by accident it will come to feel like home in a way this house never could. A new job and grad school and living with a growing, evolving teenager while evolving myself will make things different. Husband has some evolving of his own to do, too. You can't freeze time no matter how hard you wish it were true. It's important to come to one's senses in moments of irrational fear and realize that time marches on and so do people and we have no say in the matter. So I suppose I could hunker down here and live a rather stagnant, mundane life, one where I don't get to pursue my dreams, just for the sake of stability. But then fear wins. And fear should never win.
So on this fine day I'm going to take a breath. I'm going to enjoy family time with those two gentlemen I share a life with. I'm going to stop the spiral. At the end of day, we are doing something amazing. Something brave. We are taking control of our futures and doing what many wouldn't dare to do: start over. Despite the stress and uncertainty and agonizing that goes along with such a venture. Staying would be safe, yes, but it would be all wrong.
What I want more than to tame the fear and all the emotional junk, is a future I can be proud of. To open the door and see what's on the other side. To be able to look back when I'm 80 and say with certainty that I lived the heck out of life. Even if things don't look like I think they should.