Let me set the stage for you. Here’s the highlights of a dreadful week I experienced earlier this year. It was pre-Corona and at the time, I would never have imagined that craziness that was still to come.
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We bought a new house to remodel! If I’m counting correctly, this makes house No. 9 for me. I’ve done all sorts of projects — a small house (less than 1,000 sqft), a 100 year old house, a house that had the worst smelling carpet ever, and 3 flooded houses. Some of them I kept as rentals. Some of them I sold for someone else to enjoy. Some of them were for myself, even when I didn’t expect them to be. Each home has had its own unique story and each of them has meant something to me for a different reason.
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I made a list. It was a list of things that I’d like to get done at #magnoliaridgeLA. Even when I made the list, I knew all of the things wouldn’t get done. Nonetheless, I dedicated a special page in my “life book” — my notebook that keeps things rolling in my world — to a list full of things to get done in one week.
I am a list maker. I can’t operate without lists. I make lists for work, grocery lists, lists for things to do at home. I even make lists on my days off of things I’d like to do for fun. I add things like “pick blackberries” and “wash towels” to lists. I don’t know if I could operate effectively without them.
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I sit next to my laptop on my lunch break as I’m working from home. I’ve decided to use this break to work through some Hope*Writers teachings, as I’m longing to bring back my pre-Corona writing habits. I’ll use this little window of opportunity intentionally instead of scrolling instagram. I am so mature.
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I sit — wanting to write, wanting to get something I’ve already written ready to publish — and I can’t because my mind will only think about the things I should be doing instead.
There’s real estate work to be done — a roof quote to get, documents to send, appointments to schedule.
There’s house work to be done — it turns out the dishwasher doesn’t load itself and these boxes won’t unpack themselves either.
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I sat at home alone on a Saturday morning and tears filled my eyes. At first, I wasn’t even sure why I was crying. After a little more exploration, I was quick to realize that it was all catching up with me.
In the last 30 days, I’ve moved from a house that healed me to a new place with an entirely different way of life. At the old house, we picked up a lot of Johnny’s Pizza. At the new one, there are no quick trips to the store and we cook almost every meal. At the old house, I worked from home all hours of the day. At the new house, cell service is sparse.
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I read a post from a fellow hope*writer about finding our inner child during this crazy time, and it stayed with me all day. I found myself asking silent questions in my mind like:
What did I enjoy doing as a kid?
What do I do for fun now?
Do I even know how to have pure, unadulterated fun?
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Once upon a time, I set monthly goals and shared them here online. I haven’t done that since 2016.
On Monday, I found myself thinking about the start of the new month and all the many things I’ve been working on lately. I decided to write down a few goals for this new month and then thought I’d share them here, for old time’s sake. And maybe for accountability.
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It’s been one year since I moved from #wfwhitehouse and into this new place. Zach and I had a conversation recently where we both admitted to missing that big, old house. We had such dreams for that place. It’s taken this full year to really process the events of that time and some days, I still can’t believe it all.
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I changed my name on facebook and then I watched as so many people clicked and commented in support. I watched as I felt a weight lifted from my shoulders and an extra pep in my step. I was actually sitting on the couch, but you know what I mean.
I felt like I had control of something again. I didn’t feel like I closed the door on a chapter. I felt like I busted through and slammed it shut. Sure, I still have to figure out the business side of things and I’ll do that eventually. This one small step felt GIGANTIC and gave me back some power over my life.
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