Being an Adult Means Always Changing Plans

A little over three months ago my boyfriend and I packed everything up and moved across the country to my hometown in rural California. Our plan was to stay here for the summer, get jobs, save money, and move to Flagstaff. But with this economy things like that are easier said than done. So we’re still here. Indefinitely.

But I love being home. I’m not complaining. My life has always been up in the air, and I’ve never really known where I was going next until I was on my way. So I’m reapplying for school to finish my masters and seeing what sticks.
I have a good job that I like a lot. Bobby has a good job that he likes enough.

I’m incapable of having a five year plan, because every year my five year plan changes completely. We thought we’d live out our days in Arizona. Before that I thought we’d be in Alabama for a long time. Before I started applying for masters programs the first time around, we didn’t know where we’d end up because Bobby was applying for jobs all over the country. Before I moved to Alabama I thought I’d be in Mammoth for much longer. Before I moved to Mammoth I had plans to live in Portland. I once thought I’d live in England someday for a while.

I’m just not good at making plans. And I used to hate it. Because when I say I’m going to do something and then I don’t do it, I feel like a fraud. But life means always changing plans. At least for me it does.

So if you don’t know where you’re going or what you’re doing, it’s okay to keep going. If you feel like your plans have all failed, they haven’t. They’ve just changed. Because there’s no way for us to actually see the future and see what option is best. Just know that life can still be good, no matter what your plans are.

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So I Moved Across the Country

Again.

Everything has been crazy and stressful and exciting and fun. There are so many things up in the air and we’re just waiting to see what sticks the landing.

I’ve been home a little over a week. I missed home. A lot more than I thought I did. It’s good to be back.

Bobby and I both have found jobs. We’ll be able to pay bills and save. Things are working out for the first time in a long time it seems.

So yeah. I’ll try to be better. Because things are getting better. Welcome home.

Saying Goodbye

Bobby and I turned in our keys yesterday. We are finally moved out of our first little house that we shared. We no longer have to deal with crazy neighbors that hiss at our dog or throw possible poisoned bread in the backyard. But we also can no longer walk to the movie theater or to the mall to get energy drinks.

I’m not working anymore, but Bobby’s last day is Friday. Next week we say goodbye (and good riddance) to living in the South. We say goodbye to overly religious racists making up too much of the population around us. We say goodbye to people who use our Creator as an excuse for their prejudiced actions. We say goodbye to unwalkable city planning and drivers who want cyclist commuters to die simply because they’re on a bike. We say goodbye to not earning a livable wage. We say goodbye to so many things.
But we also say goodbye to good music. We say goodbye to the history of modern recording. We say goodbye to seeing zoo lions without going to a zoo whenever we want. We say goodbye to good friends. We say goodbye to cheap rent. We say goodbye to so many things.

I am so excited to say hello again. I’m excited to go home and be home and feel home. I’m excited to breath fresh air and for the shade to be cooler than the sun. I’m excited to be out of the humidity.
I’m excited to adventure again. And I’m more than excited to start somewhere new with my favorite human.

My Mother Would Have Loved Marie Kondo

Growing up, my house was never tidy. Sometimes it was clean, but it was never tidy. And it was never kept that way. We had things stacked up in lots of random places, because my mom found it hard to let go. But every once in a while she would get frustrated at her family for also not being tidy. She would ask us to clean our rooms. She would pick up things that we had left lying around and she would say “There’s a place for everything, and everything in its place.”
I think that’s why my home feels chaotic to me sometimes. Most things have their place, but a lot of things don’t have their place, so they just get set somewhere, and then when we need them we really have to search. I don’t want to live that life anymore.

I’ve been watching, like I’m sure a lot of people have been watching, Tidying Up with Marie Kondo on Netflix. It’s been amazing. I’ve been wanting to read her book for so long (let me know if you want to buy it for me) so when I saw this show I got so excited.
One thing that I heard her say in one episode is that it feels good when everything has a place. I instantly thought of my mother when I heard this.

My mother didn’t get to have a lot of innocent joy in her life. And she kept a lot of things. But I don’t think many of those things brought her joy.
I think my mother would have loved Marie Kondo, and I wish I could have seen her take Marie’s techniques into her life. I hope I can take Marie’s techniques into my life.

I’m ready for more innocent joy and less meaninglessness. I’m ready to be tidy. And I want to do it, because she couldn’t.

Anymore

I’m not creative anymore.
I’m not really anything anymore.
And my whole life used to be creative.  Everything I stood for was so that I could put more words down and life more people up with them.  But was I ever really that uplifting?
I feel like I don’t know how to make good decisions anymore.  I feel lost.  I feel terrified.  I just want to give up and start again, but life doesn’t work that way.  I feel stuck, but I have to get unstuck, or else I won’t survive.
And I’m not sure what else I can do.

I miss home.  I miss the west.  I want to be anywhere but here.  Because there’s a little bit of grace in starting fresh.  And all I want right now is to start fresh.

My heart has been aching for so long now.  Every step I make to lessen the pain only makes it worse.  Why can’t things go back to the way they used to be?  Why can’t I just go home?  All I want is to go home.  I want to be able to tell my mom how frustrated I am with Alabama and the lack of opportunities and community here.  I want to go home and have my dad make me dinner and help me figure out how to fix all of this.  Because for most of my life I had that ability.  And I didn’t realize how lucky I was.  I didn’t realize how much I took it for granted because I was so depressed and stuck in my own head.  But now I’m depressed and I have nowhere to go.  And I can’t go home anymore.

Times They Are a Changin’

I almost never blog anymore, but I always blog in airports, and that’s where I am right now.

Yesterday would have been my mother’s 64th birthday.  It’s been two years since she passed.  She’ll never meet my boyfriend.  She’ll never see me finish my masters or have a real job.  She’ll never visit me in Alabama or Arizona or anywhere else I might end up living.   And my life keeps going on.  I keep moving forward.  Everyday I’m distanced from what she knew me to be.  And I’m hoping that I’m who she would have wanted me to be.

We’re flying to California because my dad is getting married on Saturday.  He’s moving to Southern California.  My brother moved back to our childhood home to keep the house.  Everything’s different, and I’m not even around to notice it.

People keep asking me how I feel about these changes.  My biggest concern is that my dad is happy, so obviously I’m fine with it.  And honestly, being across the country, I don’t even notice the changes.  My life is still the same.  I go the same job.  I have the same friends.  The only difference is that I’m in school, so I have class and homework.

So yeah.  I’m happy.  Or relatively.  Blending my family is not the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

I’ll try to have more thoughts next time.

To Myself

I can’t remember the last time I really got to relax.  I can’t remember the last time I got be alone and think and work and write.  Which is why I feel almost nonexistent.  I’m always working.  I’m always with someone.   There’s always something else that has to be done.  Why don’t we cherish things when we have them?

My heart is not broken, but at the same time, it is.  I miss home the most in the summer, when it’s so hot here that I can hardly breathe.  All you have to do is exist and you’re sweating.  And the rain does nothing to cool the land.  I miss my dad and my brother and my best friend.  I miss home cooked meals and long drives and being allowed to spend the day in bed.  I miss my mom.  You never quite learn to appreciate things until they’re gone.

This life is not what I thought it would be.  But then again, life never is.  It’s full of surprises, good and bad.  I used to call myself a writer, but I don’t think I can say that anymore.  I’m not even trying anymore.  Any talent that I may have once have has disappeared in the busyness of work, and relationship, and life.

I don’t know what I want.  And I don’t know why I complain so much.  As humans, I guess that we are never quite content.  I miss the days when I would sit in silence and meditation, but I live as though there’s no time for that anymore.  I can’t make the days grow any longer.

As I write this, I know I still need to go buy groceries.  I still need to clean my apartment.  I still need to do so many things that won’t get done if I’m not the one to do them.  Because I am an adult.  Adulthood snuck up on me.  It probably sneaks up on all of us.  Even though we spend our childhood chasing adulthood.  How foolish are we to want this freedom that isn’t really freedom at all.