Bloom Where You Are Planted, Even If It’s in the Desert
In the warm, Louisiana spring of 2022, life presented us with an enticing fork in the road. My husband received a wonderful new job offer, which wasn’t the first time that opportunity had knocked, but perhaps the loudest it had ever knocked. We had always declined past propositions, mainly out of fear: fear of the unfamiliar, of leaving the comforts of our native state, of potential disappointment, of guilt for moving away from loved ones. Yet, this time around, the offer felt as if it had arrived hand in hand with destiny. Things had begun to align, though, of course, nothing in life is absolutely flawless.
There we stood, at the height of change. The options were clear — either embrace the opportunity or let it slip through our fingers. We grappled with the decision, going over it tirelessly for weeks. Finally, we mustered the courage and took the plunge. The stage was set and there was no turning back. We delicately delivered the news to our close family, facing a mix of shock, tears, and eventual support. As the initial surprise faded, we shared our decision with wider circles. We were officially leaving our Louisiana roots for the adventurous landscapes of Arizona.
Fast forward a month, and life seemed to be a whirlpool of emotions. From decluttering our decade-long home, organizing the move, to tying up loose ends, stress became my unwelcome companion. All the while, my husband had already made Arizona his temporary home due to work commitments. Thus, the emotional turmoil fell primarily onto my shoulders.
Soon enough, moving day was upon us. Hubby flew back home for the weekend. Amidst the whirl of last-minute packing, final visits with loved ones, tearful goodbyes, and a nostalgic last night in our family home, we were set for the journey. Amid the chaos, the excitement of our kids’ first flight was a welcome distraction!
As we stepped off the plane in Arizona, the local saguaro cacti seemed to extend a warm welcome. My five-year-old’s whine of “It’s hotttt!” still echoes in my ears. On reaching our rental house, even the typically daunting monsoon season seemed to join our welcoming committee. With thunderstorm clouds and lightning strikes against the backdrop of majestic mountains, the journey to our new house was nothing short of spectacular. Despite the storm, I felt a calming sense of belonging. It felt like home.
My experience has taught me several lessons, but the most profound is the understanding that a house is just a house, but a home is what you make of it. The intimacy and bond you can develop with your spouse and children when it’s you against the world is immeasurable. This move has positively reshaped our family dynamics, a gift for which I am eternally grateful.
If you’ve come this far, thank you for joining me on this journey. My parting wisdom? Don’t let fear paralyze you. Give life a chance. Bloom where you are planted, whether you’re a Louisiana magnolia tree or an Arizona saguaro cactus. The fear of regret should far outweigh the fear of trying. Always remember, living a life of “What if?” is the scariest thing of all.
