Moving (in one place)

Unlike maybe the average person, we’ve moved. A lot. As in ‘seven-times-in-four-years’ kind of a lot. And we’ve just done it again. This time however, we literally moved across the street, which sounds ridiculous I know, but it really made sense for reasons I won’t go into here.

While all this moving has been good, at times I feel like we’ve been in constant motion for nine years now and I don’t know if it’ll ever change. I know the moving has kept me from becoming exceedingly comfortable in any given place, but I think now that it has been a good thing. We’ve packed and sorted our things so many times (or weighed keeping them based on a dollar per pound shipping rate) that many of our belongings we’ve sold or given away, lightening our load immensely. We’ve made new friends and said goodbye to old friends. We’ve sold our brand-new barely ever used fire red KitchenAide mixer which was a wedding present…okay—so there are some things we regret having to get rid of.

We’ve called Washington, Alaska, Hawaii and California home but in the end home has been consistently where we pause in between all the motion. Being sick this past week has allowed me to reflect on my need to keep moving, and my irritation on having to stop. Running (or, when pregnant in Alaska walking, hiking and snow shoeing or the ever-dreadful pool running) has been a near constant through all the moves. I’ve run on frozen lakes and frosted trails with hoar frost in Alaska, beside corn and hay fields and on ocean dyke roads in Washington, on cement sidewalks and treadmills in Hawaii, and now mostly sandy trails below larger than life redwoods in California.

Running trails with varied landscape, elevation, flora and fauna is one of my favorite things in life to do. Somehow fresh air and fresh scenery always seem to produce a fresh outlook on life. Around the trail bend another vista awaits, at the top of the hill with quads burning the ocean may be in view. Along the path I’ve maybe had conversation with a friend, old or new. I’ve sorted out thoughts, dismissing worries farmer-blow style. I return home, wherever that may be at the time, thankful and refreshed, ready for what lies ahead.

As we settle in (again) to a new home I treasure the houses, communities, peoples and trails that have been in our past, and am thankful for the opportunity to again find our place in our ever-moving world.