It’s been about a year since I moved out here.
I will never forget how elated I was to finally escape the Midwest; it was such a blessing. But when I actually got out here, things felt like the Twilight Zone. First of all, I’d just finished a six-year long stint in a sleepy village (not even a town—a village) whose population barely scraped the underbelly of 21,000.
Driving the streets of my new city for the very first time literally sent me into shock. It was so loud… and crowded. There were cars and people hustling and bustling everywhere. Even a year later, I have a very hard time wrapping my head around the fact that my new city of residence has 220,000 more people to navigate around.
Despite being a California native, my relatively short time living the slow-paced lifestyle that’s typical of rural areas sufficiently erased my memory of traffic jams and hectic shopping centers. Before leaving my home state behind, I had lived in a major city. And while it wasn’t even a fraction as populated or frantically paced as say, L.A., I still had the driving acumen necessary to not get run over by speeding cars on the freeways.
These days, even going a snail’s pace of 50 MPH feels like a death ride to me.
Thanks for nothing, country life. 😛
The Wild West
Acclimation issues aside, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my year in the desert. Summer is beyond hellish and sadistic (don’t even get me started on how torturous the heat gets here), but when the sun plays nice, this is such a beautiful place to live.
In the absence of below zero temperatures, year-long gloom, and prolific cultural stagnation, I have enjoyed a much improved outlook on life. Aside from having so much more available to me to potentially see and do, the cloudless blues skies are more than enough to justify my move here.
What’s more, this has been a great way to slowly reintroduce myself to the fast paced life I once thrived so well in. Sheesh, I make myself sound like a rescued panda that’s been living at a wildlife rehabilitation center, but who was recently released back into “the wild” of city life!
Then again, from the sound of some of those ten o’clock news stories I hear, some of these folks around here are taking the term “The Wild West” far too seriously!
Overall, moving to the Midwest was not a pleasant experience for me, despite the fact that I knew it was a critical pitstop in my life. Once my time living there was up, I was basically scrambling hand over foot to get back to the West where I belong. I can still remember counting down the days until I would be able to finally call Arizona my new home, but even then, I had a feeling that it wouldn’t be “home” for long.
That being said, it is starting to look as though I will soon have the opportunity to move—yet again.
Mama Was A Rollin’ Stone
Like a rolling stone, I have never managed to stay put in the same house for more than a decade. In fact, I would be surprised if I’ve ever lived in the same place for five years at a time.
It’s weird though because when I first moved into this house, I said that I was tired of moving and couldn’t do it anymore. Indeed, I think I have earned the right to be fed up at this point; I’ve moved 19 times throughout my life. I have lived at each residence an average of just under 1.7 years, making me a certified gypsy.
From moving with my parents to moving completely on my own, I have been responsible for packing the majority of the possessions, which is no small task. My family aside, I have always had a lot of stuff. In fact, I have so much stuff, I have several long-distance moving crates sitting in a storage facility in California that I’ve never bothered to retrieve from, like, ten years ago.
(Please don’t bother asking why it’s still sitting there. I meant to go get it at some point, but then life kept happening…or something. At the rate I’m going, I’ll have moved back to California before ever going to get it.)
Besides the emotional strain of dealing with realtors and prospective buyers, the laborious process of packing and unpacking is no longer as easy as it was when I was young and happy to just have an excuse to rearrange the furniture or swap paint colors. Moving is straight up hard, ya’ll—especially when you’ve moved out of state and across the country as many times as I have.
But as challenging as I know it is, I still find myself willing to do it again and again.
Recently, the whispers about a potential opportunity to move has been growing louder and louder. At first, I didn’t take the chatter too seriously. Primarily, I didn’t really feel in the mood for moving, but I also didn’t sense that it was time to go anywhere.
You see, I’ve always sensed an upcoming move ahead of time. It would usually start with general and sudden discontent with my current situation. Next, it would develop into an “itchiness” to start mentally preparing myself for a major change. Therefore, as abruptly as they would often come up, none of the moves I’ve ever made (even in childhood) caught me completely unaware or ill prepared. It’s almost as though I could feel the changing tides of life that signal the need for a transition and new season in life.
If that is the case, I think it may be time for me to start thinking ahead and getting ready for what lies in my future.
It’s On Like Donkey Kong
In the last few days, I’ve become rather excited about the prospect of moving. Perhaps it is the buzz surrounding the places I may end up. Or, maybe it is the anticipation of even greater things awaiting me in the next stage of my life.
Despite only being here a year, I’ve changed so much. My ambitions are grander and more exciting than they’ve been in a very long time, so it would only make sense to level up in other areas of my life as well. You know, upgrade.
In many ways, I’ve begun to feel as though I’ve already gotten everything out of this place that I was intended to—everything God sent me here to achieve.
I mean, before I even moved here, I could sense Him telling me that this move would not be permanent, that He would use it as a training ground for something bigger and better. I’d come here, get my feet wet (for what?—I did not know), and when I was ready, He would send me to the next place, the place He really wanted me to be. Then, and only then, would the real event begin. And true to what I believed He told me so long ago, I believe that time is quickly approaching.
More and more, I have felt Him drawing my attention to the amount of “stuff” I have. It’s been this “You can’t take all of this with you where you’re going” kind of thing. And if you’ve come across my Instagram in the last few months, you may have seen that I’ve started selling my unwanted/unneeded belongings on Mercari and Poshmark.
Despite having 100+ listings and thinking that I’ve done an excellent job “scaling back”, you would not believe how much stuff I still have! And recently, God has sort of been poking me saying, “Get rid of more. Much more. You can’t take this where you’re going, so start finding a new home for all of it now.”
Mortified and confused as to how I could possibly commit to part with any more than I already have, I’ve been dragging my feet to start the second round of elimination. However,—I think it was yesterday or the day before—I finally came into agreement and decided that it is definitely time to bite the bullet and get rid of as much as I possibly can.
Boy, do I have a lot of work ahead of me!
Though I’m not sure when the move will occur and I have no idea how everything will unfold, I’m excited to go along for the ride. I really do expect something amazing to happen to me soon. It’s hard to put my finger on what it is exactly, but whatever (or maybe even whoever) it is, I’m ready for it.
Bring. it. on.
Let’s Chat About This!
Have you ever had a feeling about a big life change before it actually happened?
Are you the type of person who likes to move around, or do you prefer what’s familiar?
Would you rather stay in one place forever but not be able to pick the location OR get to pick where you go, but never be able to settle down?
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