We sold our house. It took exactly four weeks and five showings. We are meant to take this trip. I feel it - I know it. I am grateful it happened this quickly and with such an obvious message of propelling us forward. The longer things are dragged out, the longer you have to contemplate what exactly it is that you are doing... and just exactly how insane it is.
When we got the offer I sat on the floor of my bedroom and cried. Not tears of excitement but the heavy, heaving, cannot quite breathe variety. I ran my fingers over the plush chocolate carpeting that we only just installed last May and mourned its loss. There is a misconception of sorts that has come with our plans - that we are above our material possessions or that we are too unintelligent to understand what is exactly that we are giving up. That could not be further from the truth. I know exactly what it is that I am giving up and I am filled with sorrow over it. I must move forward with it nonetheless for what I see on the horizon trumps the feelings I am allowing myself now.
I have been with Troy for 11 years. From the very first night I knew we would be married and grow into a family. I began to paint the picture of what my life would be like. I envisioned what type of people we would become and what our children would be like. We began to build on that foundation of thoughts and day by day my dreams grew into a reality. It has been much messier and dragged out than pictured, but each struggle and triumph brought us closer to goal. And here we are. If I had the motivation to bore you with all of the details of my current life and how closely it resembles the dreams of my past 21 year old bride self - perhaps I could convince you that intention creates reality. Perhaps. I am not going to try however. I will tell you that I love my house. There is not a detail I would change. I love my neighborhood. I love the city in which I live. I love my job - as does Troy. I love the school my children attend. I love everything about everything that is here, that is now. So why are we leaving? The simplest of answers that I can come up with is that I question how long can I continue to be happy in this current position in life? Once the dream is accomplished, is it not natural to acquire a new one? To evolve further? I argue yes.
For this moment, life is perfect. However I do not believe a person is meant to be still. We are living beings and like all living beings on earth we have one true purpose that never waivers - to grow. Try to stop a blade of grass from reaching for the sun and you will be disappointed in your efforts. Cover it with concrete and over time you will discover cracks within its surface. Drown it in life diminishing chemicals and although snuffed out it may seem - time will work for the blade and not only will the grass reappear but the soil will repair and come to its aid. Growth may be stunted but not stopped. And why do we fight it so hard? Why do we bury those feelings and desires and even lie about having them in the first place? I have had discussions with enough people since we first made our announcement to understand that we are not alone in our desires. We do seem to be one of the few to take action and peruse it.
This action is not easy. My feelings have been all over the place from the moment we put our desires out there. We question everything of course. How could we not? Talking to those who oppose our plans is not only difficult but in the case of some family - heartbreaking. Not only for us, but for them as well. It is hard to exclaim that this is not good enough. That this life is not what we want. That we want more. Especially when it appears that we are throwing everything away to essentially become homeless. It goes against everything we are taught. It is scary. If I allow myself to live in this place of thought for too long, my chest becomes tight and my brain swirls with confusion. I get overwhelmed and panic. I look at all of the belongings I have spent more than a decade acquiring and I doubt. I see the markings on the door jam that place Marnie and Ethan's growth over the years and I yearn. But in this place I must force myself out - for these things are not real. The previously desired furnishings have done their job in completing my dream of the perfect home. It has been acquired and now they only hold things or provide a place to rest my dumpa. The markings by the door will not stop my babies from becoming adults. They merely represent a second in time that has long ago past. Never can we revisit. There is no point in the aguish felt by it's loss. And on the long days when Troy leaves for work in the morning and the school demands my children's attendance - leaving me with a mere three hours in the evening to spend with them. Three hours that is still not mine as the have homework or activities and dinner must be rushed through and bedtimes observed. In these moments I glimpse the future I want to focus my intention on. I have to let go of this house and this way of living. I want to live a real life with my family.
And we will. We will make ourselves follow through as difficult as it may be for us to do. We will take each of the pictures off our walls. We will sell or give away every item that occupies this house that we call home. We will step out into the sunlight and shake off all of the labels that we now hide behind. We will no longer be homeowners, restaurant managers, stay-at-home moms, students, hair stylists. We will solely be Troy, Erin, Marnie and Ethan. Is that not the scary part? Exposing yourself as exactly who you are and what you are made of? If you fall on your face there is no one else to blame. If success is achieved... well that is an entirely different blog for a different day. For now, the focus is to move past the loss and give up the grieving. To remember that today is the journey and we are already moving along our new path. A path to a future that has no end in sight, but one that can be continuously added to and improved as growth is achieved. We will not allow anything or anyone to halt our forward progress - least of all ourselves. But today... today I am a little sad.