February 3, 2017
Making time. Planning. Taking action. Following through.
It all sounds easy enough. I’ve done it before. And yet, here I am … another day, another week, another month have gone by and I haven’t made time, made plans, taken action.
I’m moving from this island. I don’t know when I’m going and I don’t know where I’m going … all I know is, I’m going.
And even though I know I’m going … I’m not making much progress along this course. I’ve done this before. And perhaps that is why I have not made time nor plans or taken said action …
It’s exhausting! It’s expensive! It’s time consuming! It’s scary!
And, yet, I know that this is not “my spot”. Home is where the heart is and my heart yearns for home. Yet – it’s not here … so, from where do my heart strings tug?
I’m not being unrealistic. At least in my mind’s eye I am not being unrealistic. I’m being opportunistic. I’m not being cavalier when I say I have some sort of freedom in my search. I have a business that I will take with me. I can go anywhere. Which on one hand is simply wonderful and on the other makes my search far too broad in scope for decisiveness.
I’m not looking for Utopia (even though there is a book in the works that is somewhat about that …). I know no place is ideal. I know Mayberry was fictional and yet I know that some semblance of that town exists … somewhere! But where?!
When I moved to the PNW, my rationalization for moving to this island was … why not?! I could. It was a drive or ferry trip from the mainland. It was pretty. Affordable. And, if I was going to come all the way out west and be near water … why not really be near water?! So, an island just seemed logical.
Funny thing about trips where you cover a lot of territory … things blend, places intermix and the memory fades. When I decided to come to Whidbey, it was with the thought that I could just jump the ferry and be in downtown Seattle. I figured I could go to the market, get fresh flowers and fish EVERY WEEK! I could go to plays and museums and concerts. Take a class at UW. See my son (when he still lived here). I could shop at the exquisite grocery store in town. I could volunteer at the Reserve (formal gardens). I could go down the road and help out at the marine mammal sanctuary. What I didn’t realize (until I got settled in) was that the ferry going to Seattle is off of Bainbridge Island not where I had landed on Whidbey! Wrong island!
Seems I didn’t do my research as well as I should have.
So, here I am. Vowing to do better in my search and yet I am frozen. And not in a good way like a dark chocolate covered coffee and almond Dove ice cream bar … but in a bad way … with fear and angst and trepidation. What if I don’t choose well this time?
And yet, I am unsettled. My heart is not home. I want to find home. I need to find home.
It’s said that when a loved one dies, a part of you dies with them. When Tim (my husband) died, a whole CHUNK of me died with him. I’ve said before that my life didn’t go into a downward spiral as much as I got shot out sideways – like a boomerang – into a void and all this time I’ve been making my way back. I’m making my way back to me. Finding my way home. But, it’s taking time. And in finding my way back, this journey has led me to live in different places and meet new people and experience things I would not have if I had stayed put. To do so was not an option. And even though this is not my forever spot … it is where I was meant to stop. At least for awhile. For now. Until I find my way home.
So, here I am again … wanting to find somewhere new … wanting to find where my heart is supposed to be. Yes, the thought of moving makes me queasy … all those boxes! All those styrofoam peanuts! All that work! But, it is with an underlying air of excitement that I find myself casually looking up “quaint towns in …” … the “best towns to start a business” … “the best kept secrets of … ” .
I just need to make the time to research. Make my plans. Take action. And follow through. Or I’ll certainly still be here – wanting to be going somewhere but getting nowhere.
Note: I’m thinking I’d like to maybe open up a B&B or at least continue with an Airbnb and expand my dog care. In case you have any grand suggestions for me … let me know! Rolling hills, stone walls, good autumns, historic, maybe a college town or some tourism, four seasons (but milder winters), easily accessible, southern hospitality but not necessarily the south, open-minded and friendly, affordable. And I don’t really want to be in the path of hurricanes! I keep coming back to the MD/DE/VA/se PA areas. I think I’m done with the West. Don’t want super South. NO to the SW. NO to the NE. NO to anything west of Indiana. Any ideas?