I spent a lot of my first full year in New York walking the 8 blocks from my apartment to my boyfriend’s apartment. The usual route consisted of walking past an environmental conversation center that always had several turtles swimming in a tank in the front window. I would often stop and watch them for a good few seconds and think about how relaxed they probably were, being taken care of by nice people and lots of room for swimming. Which often felt somewhat opposite to just getting my footing in a new place.
The day after we decided to leave New York, I ended up needing to walk on that same old route (that I fell in love on!) to do an errand. I was excited to catch up with the current rehabilitation tenants, just to find that for the first time the tank was entirely empty, water and all. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself at the timing. Guess it was time for me to relocate too.
Sometimes knowing it is time for a change feels so deep, that it is the only viable option. Other times it happens upon you when you are not ready for it. I have experienced both in different instances. This move was the first.
The past three weeks have been filled with driving a U-haul cross-country (or more riding a U-haul cross-country, let’s be real), audiobooks, cleaning a very dirty 1940’s rental home, adjusting to difficult political changes**, and getting settled into my new tank if you will.
The rush and thrill of New York will probably never leave me, but Atlanta is bringing out my zen demeanor that has been a bit more dormant. Breaking my strong routines has reminded me of the kindness that can exist without any reason. A girl from my fellowship planning a walk with me. A neighbor I haven’t met delivering donuts. A girl at church inviting me to cookbook club. The guy at the yarn store filling me in on the activities they host because I mentioned I just moved. Someone letting me into their lane because I am clearly ~not used to downtown traffic~. I am holding onto these moments whenever I feel a longing for the familiar, because I know these are the moments that will make something feel familiar in time. Being forced to slow down before I start my job has reminded me how easy it is look outward while still taking care of what is inward. It almost has me embarrassed that I didn’t think to go knock on my neighbor’s door first! Creating community is everything and I am feeling pretty lucky to have had such strong communities to lean on. Now time to build some more.
**I have been thinking a lot of this poem my friend Olive shared called, Good Bones by Maggie Smith.
When you said "I am holding onto these moments whenever I feel a longing for the familiar, because I know these are the moments that will make something feel familiar in time," that was reallllly epic