Exploring, pioneering, going — there is something about the unknown; the potential of it, the limitlessness. I love home, but Im not afraid to leave it. As much as home is dear, making home in new places has a sweetness Im nearer to. By the time I was 15yrs old I had lived in 15 homes. As a particularly organized child you would think that all those changes would upset the apple cart of my lifestyle system and well-ordered space, and I suppose it did, but even then I was more excited about getting to reorganize and make a ‘new way’ my own than I was frustrated by the uprooting. 

No matter how many times you move though, leaving the familiar, saying goodbye to the dear places and everyday faces, is no easier. I’ve been so caught up in the plans and excitement for Milwaukee that I’d forgotten this transition means a complete uprooting and starting from scratch in a place I don’t know once again. Last year this time I was packing up to drive across the country and move into a state Id never been to, to live with people Id never met and get a position Id never held before in a setting Id never experienced — by myself. There was a culture shock to it all and an unrelenting requirement for effort put forth without even the rest of a friendly face at days end. It was hard. I found joys in it, I was stretched very thin by it, and it certainly merited the title: adventure. This move is similar except that I’ll know some faces and the job position is one Im at least aware of how to operate and be flexible in. 

Traversing into the great unknown is a labor. In these times its wonderful how a brand or shop you recognize appears as perfect relief. Just knowing that my new place is one street over from a Starbucks is a comfort. To be able to walk into an atmosphere Im acquainted with and order the drink of my current routine, not having to think twice over this one in a hundred decisions my new world will present me with daily, is a gift.

Oh, and isn’t it fun? Turning on the favorite songs, drowning out the grating sound of the new furnace, or throwing wide the windows to let the sounds of life unfolding down the street sweep through. To unpack those boxes and glance around at the inventory of items, each collected over time and containing memory of some adventure past, to wipe them clean and set them in place, step back and see it seeping out: home.

Yes, Im both a nomad and a nester.


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