Or three things I learned from moving to a new state.

I don’t remember a lot of details about moving.

It’s a somewhat concerning sentiment considering it was only two years ago. That said, I was running on next-to-no sleep, whatever drive-thru food was closest, and adrenaline. I learned a lot in the process, but ‘whirlwind’ would be understating the experience.

What I remember most vividly was laying on the floor of my new bedroom on the first night in the new house, staring at the ceiling, thinking, “What just happened?”

I learned Plans Can Change Fast

I was a senior in high school working through the last quarter of my Associates Degree when “We might move to a new state someday,” became “We are moving as soon as possible.”

It was such a variety of things. Our neighborhood, my neighborhood, the one I spent my entire life in, had changed substantially. Crime rates skyrocketed and costs of living climbed rapidly all at once.

My brother was homeschooled, and his best friends lived far away so his attachments to the area were not strong ones. My dad’s company was fully onboard with a move, guaranteeing him work in a new state, and my mom was beyond prepared to shut down her business she worked for 8 years to establish if it meant getting a fresh start. My grandparents were content with the idea of leaving behind their house to venture to a new state. Once I graduated, my ties to the area were also severed.

It was something that had been considered for a long time. My parents had spent years saying they wanted to get out of the city and move somewhere better suited for their desire to start a homestead.

Originally, it had been a retirement plan, but circumstances pushed a back-burner dream into the foreground of our lives in the period of a few months. So much of it was schematics and discussions, and logistical issues that needed to be spoken through by everyone involved. And then, all of the sudden, almost overnight, it changed from a plan to a reality. Everything happened so slow, yet so fast.

People thought my parents were crazy. Everyone we spoke to scoffed at them. Laughed, and thought they were acting impulsive and foolish. They didn’t understand how much work and planning and commitment went into their decision.

“You’ve spent your whole lives here! You two have lived in the same house for 20 years. You can’t just pick up and leave everything behind.”

If anything, I think the naysayers added fuel to the already blazing fire.

I remember feeling braced constantly, waiting for the next thing to go wrong, waiting for the next judgmental voice, waiting for the results of our efforts to finally show themselves.

In June, I got my diploma and my degree.

In July, I turned 18, helped finish preparing to sell the house I grew up in, and started saying my goodbyes to friends and family.

In August, we took a road-trip to the state we planned to moved to and found a new place to live. We sold our old house.

In September, we moved.

It just one summer, everything in my life completely changed.

I Learned To Take The Little Wins

Finishing my degree was a surreal moment for me.

It was an online math final, and I took it in my dining room. Our table was covered in boxes for Goodwill, the house smelled like fresh paint, and the hardwoods reeked of polish and cleaner. There was tape on the walls and plastic on the floors and I was taking a damn math test, of all things.

I was the only one home at the time. I sat in the dining room, and sent an email to the college board confirming that I finished my last required class, and signed and emailed the documents requesting my degree.

It was a little underwhelming.

I called my mom to tell her I finished my last class, and asked if we could get ice cream for dinner.

It clicked for me, eventually, why it wasn’t a big deal.

It was underwhelming because it wasn’t the most important thing happening in my life at the time. In the grand scheme of things, moving was going to have a much greater effect on me, and bring about far more change. The end of my formal academic career felt lackluster next to the real, valuable life experiences I was gaining.

All that said, I celebrated.

I ate ice cream and laughed with my family as we sat in our torn-apart living room. We cleaned up our house and threw a graduation party. I knew it was barely a change at all compared to what the next few months would contain. I think that was part of why I made a point to celebrate it as much as I did, despite not really feeling the victory as much as I thought I would.

If you don’t know what is going to go wrong, the things that go right become a lot more valuable.

I took the little win.

I think it made the next few months easier.

I Learned Journeys Do Not End

There was this idea in my head that once we got to the new house, there would be a moment of peace and serenity.

There was not.

It took all of two days before my mom picked up 8 chickens from a nearby seller. And then 4 more chickens. And then 40 more chickens. Then it was 20 rabbits. Geese, ducks, quail. It grew and grew.

And then, less then a year after we moved, we were on a roadtrip to the next state over to get dairy goats. Seven Nigerian dwarf goats, all riding home in the backseat of my mom’s Jeep Wrangler.

For four hours. 

It was an interesting experience to say the least.

Now, looking back on it, the moment of peace that I was looking for was that first night in my new room. Trying to sleep, staring at the ceiling. Wondering how I got there. Despite my exhaustion, it took me ages to fall asleep. I had grown up in a busy urban area. All I could hear was crickets and silence.

No traffic. No football at the high school across the street. No sirens. No yelling and shouting.

Just crickets. I remember a moment of horror where I wondered if I wouldn’t be able to sleep outside of a city. I woke up the next morning not knowing where I was, with a killer headache and a U-Haul to help unpack. I learned that journeys don’t end, they just lead to the beginning of something new.

That sentiment brought me a lot of comfort.

There is always something to care about.

Something to invest energy, time and effort in. 

I think that that’s a good thing.