Yesterday was my last at the new job in the desert.
So today felt like a weekend, though it was actually the exact middle. I remembered to remember how much I love time.
I slept in. I woke and made the kids breakfast. I folded the basket of laundry that’s been sitting untouched for several days. I put the clothes away.
I drank coffee, at my kitchen table, while I did nothing at all productive at my computer.
I led the kids in an art project that involved massive globs of finger paint and really long sheets of easel paper taped across that same kitchen table.
I finished the book I was reading. At 1 in the afternoon. On the couch with my husband. While the kids napped and played on their own. This sort of tranquil moment will never be overrated.
I cleaned out the kitchen cabinets and the refrigerator.
We went to the pool. I played with my kids in the water. I stretched out and turned my face toward the sun.
I pushed my daughter on the big-girl swing at the park, as long as she wanted. She seemed to soar.
I thought about where we are, where I’ve been, how we got here, what comes next. I thought about life and how crazy it is, how difficult some choices, how scary some leaps, how important our instincts really are. How too short it all is. Don’t sweat the small stuff, someone said once. Don’t sweat the big stuff, I sometimes believe. I’ve even said recently, “It’s just money.”
Despite some difficulties, the job at the paper out here in the desert was a leap worth taking. If not for the opportunity, we would never have met this beautiful land, my husband would never have made the spiritual connection to this place. He would have never written this amazing column.
Or maybe he would have. Maybe life is designed to give us all the experiences we are supposed to have, one way or the other. Maybe this desert would have found him, us, either way.
Whatever the case, this move and this job and this first home together were essential to our story, part of the “from now on” we began late last summer. Part of the new beginning.
So here we are.
I have a few weeks off before beginning my new job. I plan to spend that time being, more than anything else, present. If I’m productive at the same time, great, but it’s not a priority.
The new job means our family will move, one more time.
As exhausted as I am from change, I am looking forward to this new place. Finally, I feel like we just might have it figured out.
We’re headed east but only slightly. We’ll still be in the desert, but we’ll be in Colorado where a friend back home once told me she knows my heart lies.
The new job is perfect.
I’ll work from home, and I’ll work with online, that place of html and blogs and social media I never dug my heart fully out of last fall. I’ll be back. Not as editor of a website for moms, but as an editor of several newspaper websites in Colorado’s Rocky Mountains.
I’m still trying to wrap my mind around how amazing it will be to not have to leave my family every morning, to not have to pack a lunch, to be able to work from anywhere, at least most of the time.
I’m really feeling lucky. I’m remembering to remember to be thankful, to keep perspective, to hold my truth at hand. Always. To not give in or give up.
To continue to build a life that is beautiful, a life we all deserve.
It is possible. We’re on our way.
(It will change your life.)