I've moved into my new house and I really love it! I'm still getting settled, but I just succeeded in getting my computer set up, hence this update.
The worst thing that has gone wrong was that I realized that the room that I want to use as a study did not have a phone plug installed (hence no internet access), but I solved this problem by buying a 50-ft. phone cable. It meanders across the room and across the hall to the one room upstairs that does have a phone plug. Next step: figuring out how to string it across the ceiling so that I don't have to keep unplugging it between uses to make sure no one trips over it. Anyway, if that's the worst problem I've had, it's not so bad, eh? What's fun is that I keep discovering unexpected nice things about this house that I hadn't noticed before!
I'm only a few blocks from where I was before, but suddenly my life feels dramatically different. My walk to my office is now across campus -- and a beautiful part of campus. The house and the gardens are beautiful. The neighborhood is very friendly -- I know most of the people on my street. And I'm now living in a house I own -- this is the first time in my life I finally feel that I'm not living in someone else's space. This is the first move in my life that doesn't feel transitional. This is a place I could (and probably will) remain the rest of my life -- happily.
I counted up the moves I've made in life: 25 major moves (requiring changes of address). That's a lot!
So the move itself wasn't bad. I realized as I got into it, "I know this all too well." I have a system. I am well-experienced. I know how to pack things. I know how to break down boxes again after unpacking.
It's still amazingly chaotic and disruptive. Once I got into it enough that it hit me that my life was seriously going to change, I did hit a moment of weariness and despair. This was about this time last week. My life felt turned inside-out. There was still a lot to do. Physically it is hard work. And moving is also emotional.
I just told myself to keep going, one step at a time. Moving day was Monday. The actual shifting of stuff did not take long (under three hours). Then I went to campus, and after attending to the bare essentials at work, I returned to clean up my old place. As I left to come to my new house, I appreciated the moment. "Here I am at last, arriving at my new life."
I put a folding chair out on my new deck and poured myself a glass of orange-mango juice and went out to sit on the deck to celebrate my arrival in my new life. I had long envisioned this moment, and had had periods of doubting that it ever could or would happen. Now here I was. It was not exactly like I expected: for one thing, it was dark (I had envisioned the moment in the daylight, looking out over the beautiful garden). But it was a nice warm evening. As I relaxed to enjoy the peaceful evening and the sense of arrival, I suddenly started crying. It was happy tears, plus exhaustion.
I didn't linger long, because there was still much to do so that I could be functional enough to resume work the next morning!
I am liking my new life very much. It feels full of potential and promise.
6 years ago