Thursday, June 15, 2006

moving angst

In between juggling 70-hour work weeks and trying to maintain some semblance of an interesting personal life—if one can stretch the descriptor that far—I now have to start packing for my upcoming move. It’s getting down to crunch time and all I’ve done thus far is clean out my closet. I know the closet might seem a strange place to start packing, but given the recent upsurge (or should I say down-surge) of gravity, I figured clothes were a mandatory requirement while everything else is negotiable, redundant, or replaceable.

During today's mid-afternoon sugar slump, I found myself seriously questioning the sanity behind my decision to move 50 miles away from the spot I've called home since leaving California. The place where I've made good friends, where I have a support system, and where most of my day-to-day business is conducted.

My nerves screeched at the thought of rush-hour commutes through Seattle and I suddenly developed new-found appreciation for all the little things I take for granted, like the four-minute drive to one of my major assignments. The movie theater I can walk to (but always drive to). The guys at Starbucks coffee kiosk who cheerfully greet me by name every morning. The ten bookstores, all within a five mile radius of my apartment, and the clerks who share new book finds with me. The lakes where I kayak; the trails I cycle. Friends who pop in unexpectedly when they’ve been shopping nearby. Phong, the dry cleaner who presses the tightest crease in just the right spot. And the lovely lady Lee who’s painted my toe nails an array of pretty colors for the past eight years!

But sometimes you just need to shake things up. Move things out. Move things in. Move energy up, down, and around. And it’s time.

Soon I’ll have a lovely studio to work from with a panoramic view of the Puget Sound. I’ll have the mental and creative space I’ve been yearning for, and a quiet location in which to write. I'll have a garden to potter in. I'll find new coves to kayak; virgin trails to explore. I’ll try new restaurants, new hotspots, and I'll meet new friends, and have old friends over to visit. I’ll have a beach just 50 yards from my house, where I can walk my new puppy each morning while I wake up with a mug of Seattle's Best Breakfast Blend. And at sunset, when I scribble in my journal and check off another day, maybe I’ll savor a golden Mai Tai or two as I dig my toes into the sand and contemplate how lucky I am.

“Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.” ~ Andre Gide.


Anonymous said...

Sounding fab babe.Can I come too? 50 miles is not that far but I know what you mean cuz lotta people (freinds) won't drive so its far eneough to cut you off. Good luck!

Bibi said...
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Bibi said...

Yes, 50 miles is nothing although I had less angst when I moved 1500 miles away. Cheers for your good wishes.

Yasmine Galenorn said...

You better have old friends over to visit (and come visit them). *grins* You know we're going to miss you up here but it's not like you're moving to the far ends of the earth. Well, not quite. :)