​For much of my life I lived in the same house. I grew up in one city. I went to two schools, one elementary, one high school. I came home to the same house, with a familiar smell, with a familiar aesthetic. 

It was a while before I left that house. And I didn’t move far when I left. 

There’s something about leaving familiarity that’s exciting. It’s new, it’s explorative, and it’s stimulating. 

But it’s also disorienting. 

In the past few years I’ve moved a lot. I’ve packed up my things, sold things I felt I didn’t need anymore, found a new place, and started again. 

I’ve learned that I’m terrible at setting up a home. Maybe because it’s not worth it. Why put up pictures when you know you have to take them down again? Why unpack when you’ll pack again? Why collect things when you don’t know if you’ll be able to keep things when you move again? 

I find myself yet again on the move. And this time, it seems like it will be a long time before I’m anywhere long enough to make it worth considering setting up. 

I’ve been challenged with the anxiety of the transient life. I’ve asked myself many times if it wouldn’t just be easier to settle down, stay put, and dig deeper roots. 

It’s painful to say goodbye. It’s unsettling to not know when you’ll see people who you’ve gotten to know, or even if you’ll see them again. 

It’s challenging when so much of you is saying, “just keep moving forward,” and yet part of you screams, “why are you leaving again?”

Though I know with all my being that it’s not the time to settle down and stay put quite yet, it’s not easy to leave. Though I am grateful to be in a position to take on new adventures and a different setting, it’s deeply unsettling as well. 

But then again, if I don’t leave, if I don’t see the things I want to see and do the things I want to do now, I’m scared that I’ll look back and wish I did. 

So for now, I guess it’s time to move on.

headed into the next season of life.... (photo taken Fall 2019, skagit valley)