Adventure Time — Part Four
Times of Living and Learning
Author’s Note: This is the fourth and final post of a series about when two baby boomers decide that a life adventure is in order, so they buy a house, sell a house and move to a new town in exactly two months’ time. Importantly, it’s about life and its lessons as well as trying to be one’s best self during the strangest of times. Read the first three installments here, here and here:
On an ironically beautiful, balmy Thursday in February, we packed all of our belongings into a great big hulk of a moving van (well the movers packed the van, thank goodness), a pick-up truck and a SUV. We said goodbye to our dear neighbors, took a final look around the beloved homestead, and headed west.
We spent the night in our new house, thunder booming across the big lake, dog wondering just what in the world we were up to now. Bright and early Friday morning, another warm and magical day, the moving team pulled up and unpacked an ungodly amount of belongings to be squeezed into an already-furnished house. Eldest daughter and husband arrived that evening, and we worked like dogs all weekend to cull out what we didn’t need and find locations for all the rest. Amazingly, we were pretty functional by Sunday night, even finding enough of the grill parts to enjoy a steak dinner at our new arts and crafts dining room table. A magnificent sunset graciously endorsed our hard work.
Our cheerful helpers departed, and we were left to our own devices –the husband, the dog and me. As often is the case, we quickly fell into a new routine of teamwork — unpacking boxes, tearing down boxes, shoving boxes in the overflowing garage. Individually placing a knick knack here and there, then enjoying it being found and appreciated. We reveled in every single moment with our dog, who had her aggressive cancer confirmed but was acting like a young puppy as she reveled the return of important smells with each box unpacked, and eagerly explored all the new smells outside.
We undertook little adventures, such as walking to get our library cards at the library in the woods, opening an account at the local bank and having a beer at the local brewery. February quickly flowed into March. We proudly showed off our cool new place to family and friends who came to see if we were as nuts as they thought we were. The jury is out in that regard, depending on who you talk to.
Sadly, on March 5, when we should have been celebrating our dog’s 12th birthday, she instead headed off to the rainbow bridge. Once again, we found ourselves on the floor, hugging our wonderful puppy, with both girls saying their tearful goodbyes on Facetime. And then she was gone. Amidst our sobs, we acknowledged massive thankfulness for having a few weeks of lovely memories of her at our new place. And in the words of Forest Gump, “That’s all I have to say about that.”
What I can say is that we are settled here in this beautiful 1912 arts and crafts bungalow, along side a river, a lake and a really big lake. We introduced ourselves to the mighty Lake Michigan last weekend, quite impressed with the assertive welcome. We took advantage of uncanny spring weather to wander the many paths along the waterways, investigate the interesting plants emerging too early in our yard, and sit on our new front porch, the critical element that started our adventure in the first place. We simply had to have a covered front porch. Now we do. And so much more.
Lessons Learned:
— A very specific one to start: I really beat up my body over the course of our move. I was so proud of myself, working like a crazy dog, building my biceps, falling into bed each night with a great sense of accomplishment. But I made poor choices in terms of diet; I simply didn’t have the time for yoga and even though things went pretty darn smoothly, I stressed a great deal. Recovery continues, as I hobble around like an old crone. Hindsight is 20–20, of course, but I do wish I had slowed it down a bit and taken better care of me.
— The definition of adventure: Oxford says it’s “an unusual and exciting, typically hazardous, experience or activity.” At first, I bristled at the word “hazardous,” but the more I think about it, there certainly were elements of danger involved. We laugh when we talk about buying a house, selling a house and moving in less than two months. “Who does that?” we quip. But it took a lot out of us physically, for sure. And I would confess to a myriad of worries, as I lay awake many a night. What the heck are we doing? Why are we leaving so many dear friends? We don’t know anyone there. Did we wrest the family home from our daughters? Are we making a mistake? But by morning, the sense of adventure would return. We would talk about all of this, my husband and I, acknowledging our desire for something new, to avoid some of the potential ruts of a life with little change. It turns out that adventure is good for all of us, however we choose to define it. Here is a quick read on that angle: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-science-of-fun/202312/the-role-of-adventure-in-personal-growth. I think my brother summed it up nicely. “I think this is the most absurd thing you have ever done, and I am incredibly impressed,” he said with a grin.
— This entire experience shook up my brain, my body, my heart and my soul. It offered heart-moving endings and stunning new beginnings. We’ve gone through all the emotions associated with those kinds of life changes, and they are real. I’ve heard from so many people who are contemplating sizeable moves and adventures of their own, wanting to know more about how we went about this. One lesson is to become aware of and acknowledge the emotions associated with transitions. Important information here: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/navigating-emotions-transition-kelsey-corey/. As William Bridges, author of “Managing Transitions” emphasizes, change begins with an ending and ends with a beginning. And oh, the multitude of emotions that ensue, both negative and positive. Don’t fight them; manage them; revel in them.
— Lastly, as I continue to shake my head at how fast all of this transpired, I’m reminded of the writings of one of my favorite poets, Max Ehrmann. His famous “Desiderata” speaks of the universe unfolding as it should. I absolutely believe that all this happened for a reason, that we were supposed to undertake an adventure of significant proportions and uncover all sorts of interesting learnings as a result. That most certainly has happened and it is still early in the process. Another of Ehrmann’s poems, simply called “Life,” ends with this:
“And though I have not understood all this.
Made up of a laugh and a wail,
I think that the God of the world knows all,
And someday will tell the tale.”
I look forward to that.
