We moved on Friday, as most of you know. We flew north on a helicopter (which wasn’t technically a helicopter, but was actually more airplane-like in substance – but don’t break my two-year-old’s heart by telling him the truth). And, lucky for me, we’re starting to say our hellos.
Many of you have asked me how I’m doing, and while I’ll be mostly be taking a break from writing and speaking until January, I did ink out a few thoughts for the Mudroom yesterday. Click here to read the entire story, or check out a few of my thoughts below…
There’s comfort in saying hello.
You see, lately, my life has felt marked by a slew of goodbyes. A couple of months ago, my husband was offered an incredible job promotion nine hundred miles away. As commuting hundreds of miles a day isn’t for the faint of heart – and because I can take care of my babies and write and speak from anywhere – we said yes.
So, we said yes to an interstate move from Oakland, California to Seattle, Washington. We said yes to new opportunities. We said yes to new adventures and yes to a new church and yes to returning to my roots, as I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, and most of my immediate family and many old friends already live here.
But as good as all the yeses looked on paper, I didn’t anticipate the noes that would come along with it – just as I didn’t anticipate how hard saying goodbye would be to my insides.
Because, moving, man: it’s brutal. It’s a leaving, a divorce, a death of what was. Your heart resides in one place while your body lives in another.
“What is love?” I asked my four-year-old son last night.
“Love is sad,” he replied. I looked at him, not knowing what to say in return. Love is sad? What have his preschool teachers been teaching him? What have we been teaching him? Love is a happy thing! Exclamation points all around! Puppies and rainbows and glitter are sprinkled into our sentences when it comes to love, and our hearts are prompted to smile upwards with delight.
But I also knew that small humans are also a whole lot smarter than we big humans sometimes give them credit for. I also knew that he might have something to teach me in that moment.
“Why is love sad, buddy?”
“Love is sad because I miss people in Oakland.”
Such a cliff-hanger! Head on over to the Mudroom and read the rest of the story. Otherwise, might we all find and see Peace, even in the midst of uprootedness.
So, moving, transitions, change: what is it for you? How do you handle it? What do you vow to do? How do you seek and find and see Peace?