In March of this year, I wrote:
… the default path is the one of least resistance. That the easiest choice is usually the most predictable one, the one where you can see several steps out.
I didn’t explicitly say this in that article, but my motivation for writing and sharing those words was to remind myself that the fear I felt about accepting a new job (the one I started in April) was normal, expected, and would pave the way toward personal growth. My lizard brain resisted the change, but my human brain knew that making myself uncomfortable in the short term would be worthwhile in the long term.
Well if a new job wasn’t enough of a life change for one year, I’m here to announce another: my family has relocated from St. Louis, Missouri, to a small town outside of Madison, Wisconsin.
To answer the two most common followup questions I get after telling someone about our move: we don’t have family in this area, and we didn’t move for work. So why did we make such a drastic move?
Staying in St. Louis would have made a ton of sense for my family. If you glance back up at the quote above: it was the default choice. Staying there meant that my family knew exactly what came next for us. The future felt like it was already written, to a large extent. Some might find comfort in that feeling, and of course that’s perfectly normal and acceptable.
But my wife and I knew that eventually we wanted to take a different path, and when the stars aligned this year (not unrelated to both her and I starting new, fully-remote jobs, among other factors), we knew that it was now, or most likely, never. Uprooting only gets more difficult as those roots grow deeper.
It was not an easy decision. We’d be leaving a comfortable home, lots of friends and family nearby, and an area we knew well. We feared that we’d be disappointing our loved ones in the area. We questioned whether we could afford to relocate and whether the time was “right” for such a move (your brain will always try to convince you that now isn’t the right time, but that’s that lizard brain seeking comfort and familiarity again). We didn’t know how we would make time to look at houses. We didn’t know how long it would take to sell our current house (a prerequisite for buying the next house). We didn’t know how our daughter would handle the news.
But we bulldozed ahead, making moves long before the choice felt real. In early September, we found a lovely home in a quiet little town, not far from the amenities of a medium-sized Midwestern city. We closed our eyes and jumped.
We’ve been here for almost two weeks. It is early and the dust from the move is still settling. Our walls are still bare. I’m still fumbling around in a kitchen with a new layout. The to-do list is long and we have quickly discovered the quirks of a home that’s new to us.
I recognize the rose-colored glasses through which my wife and I have been viewing this change. I’m not so naive to think that we won’t face new challenges in our new home, beyond those we are already aware of as a result of being outside the network of support we’d built in St. Louis. I know it won’t always be easy.
But we arrived here ready to take those challenges on, and we have been very lucky so far. We’ve already met some kind locals who have welcomed us with open arms. Our daughter is thriving in her new daycare. We are all enjoying a bigger yard and the cooler weather.
For me, there’s also the creative challenge of finding a new rhythm here. Nature is my muse, but it will, of course, take time to get to know this new landscape.
If the newfound interest in writing that I’ve been experiencing this week is any indication, maybe the move to a quieter part of the country will be an adrenaline shot for my motivation to create. It could just be the novelty of new surroundings or the cooler weather, but I feel like cozying up with a notebook and trying to tame the mess of thoughts that’s been growing in my head for months.
Who knows how long this feeling will last — I’ve written often about the peaks and valleys in my relationship with creativity — but hey, why not ride the high for now? It feels like the right way to start this new chapter.