It’s been over a year since my last SwS post – for no good reason (I don’t consider “busy” a good reason) other than a borderline pathological level of procrastination and a complete lack of follow thru. It’s not that I haven’t written anything, I just haven’t finished anything. So if you’ve been here before and thought I moved to a remote island in the South Pacific or fell off a mountain (as if I did something that cool), welcome back! If you’re new here, hi! Stick around…I might say something profound – or at least make you guffaw at an inappropriate time (stop staring at your phone in the OR, Karen, that blood pressure isn’t going to monitor itself).
This past weekend marked six months since I up and left my SoCal life for a new adventure in Idaho. Though the actual plan/move took a few months, the decision to move was uncharacteristically spontaneous for someone who suffers from overthought paralysis like me. Less than 24 hours after receiving a job offer here, I gave notice and set the wheels in motion. In closing that chapter, I said goodbye to a home that saw more in 3 years than I care to list (I already feel old…that won’t help). I celebrated my 40thbirthday there. My best friend flew 3,000 miles to celebrate hers there too. I toasted new love, and mourned the loss of love at the same kitchen counter. I abandoned the image of what I thought my life was “supposed” to look like there. I laughed and cried and consumed far too much wine there. I tried (and mostly failed) to write so many words bouncing around my head there. I conquered fears and hid under the covers there. That house was busy collecting a whole lot of juju while I hurled myself through life with the thinly veiled (I like to think there was at least a thin veil) confidence of a woman on a mission. Then just like that, it was time to go.
Three days, one massive snowstorm, and 1,123 miles later I pulled into the driveway of my new home. I’d love to say it was some cathartic, memorable moment but I’m pretty sure I stretched my legs, walked the dog, unloaded the car, and went to bed because I had to go to work in the morning.
In the weeks leading up to the move almost everyone I informed of my plan had the same questions. “Why Idaho?” or “Do you have friends or family there?” The answer was always some version of “nope, just taking a chance on the universe” and (almost) always delivered in a tone of voice designed to convey my conviction that everything was going to be just fine, something I mostly believed. The fact that I’d spent a sum-total of 84 non-contiguous hours in Idaho in my 41 years made that sound a little crazy, though, even if the decision did feel overwhelmingly “right”. If I’m being completely honest, what I feared most (and maybe secretly hoped for) was solitude. I’m incredibly adept at slowly becoming a social hermit when not encouraged, prodded, or yanked from my shell by a variety of forces. My couch is my safe space (it may have helped that I didn’t have a couch for the first 5 weeks). Books, magazines, podcasts, and the ever-present interwebs are fantastic substitutes for actual human interaction – until they aren’t. My new co-workers are lovely, but are also mostly married with children of various ages rendering them unlikely social companions. It seems I posses an unintentional resting bitch face that generally precludes meeting people in bars and restaurants (even in a place like Idaho, where people are so friendly I thought I had inadvertently been cast in a Truman Show sequel on my first visit). Yet 6 months in the universe has managed to validate my leap of faith, not only providing me reasons to get off the couch, but also a small handful of beautiful souls I count as true friends.
I don’t recommend handing these out in bars, though. People are weird. Even in Idaho.
Half a year has gone by with alarming speed and certainly hasn’t been without trials (life rarely is). Now that I’m finally taking a hot second to reflect and write about it, I can’t imagine making a different decision. Here’s hoping the next time opportunity punches me in the face I once again have the courage to leap first and ask, “Wait…what the fuck did I just do?” second. Maybe I’ll even get around to writing about more of it. But hey, one leap of faith at a time.
On the list of things I’ve rediscovered in the last 6 months: camping. And mosquitos. #worthit
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