“Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.” ~ John Lennon
We have spent the last two months burning up the highway to a place called Vandemere. We have been inside and out of a house there. We've been thinking about buying the house and moving there permanently.
The property is beautiful. The house was built by the present owner - "Two nails in the whole house," he said - and is welcoming and perfectly sited on the eleven acres. A photographer's dream, his creek a portal to the inner banks.
My mind churned non-stop with the possibilities: writing workshops, photography classes, music festivals, weekends with the house full of friends and family and fellow learners. Gardening, exploring the waterways, pets and chickens. Self-sufficiency with a little belt-tightening. Family holidays with grandkids running the property and swimming from the pier. A legacy home place for our children.
I began organizing and cleaning out my house. Not packing exactly, but thinking in terms of what we would need if we moved there. Games, books, videos. The furniture that would look good in this room or that. I put all my photographs and the children's papers and family memorabilia in containers for storage (the area is prone to flooding).
I dreamed some more.
And then, and then, we decided the time wasn't right for this kind of bold move. We need to stay where we are for a while longer.
I won't say I haven't mourned the decision. But a strange thing happened in the midst of the mourning: I realized that all the things I thought of doing there I can do right where I am. Although I won't wake up and walk out the pier with my coffee, I can sit on my deck, private with lush greenery, and listen to the morning chatter of the birds. I can open my windows at night and hear the toads' chorus. I can have workshops and house concerts, rooms full of friends and family. Our garden is in and coming up beautifully.
I realize that my dreams cannot be contained by a place. I still might want to move to Vandemere some day, or some place like it, but I'm going to keep on living right where I am for now. Stay tuned...you know you'll be a part of my next adventures!
6 comments:
I feel your pain, Mamie. A while back, we looked at a condo that was located in the American Tobacco district in Durham. It was SO delightful. It had exposed brick inside...a nifty loft...big windows...ceilings that go up for miles and miles. But it was not in the works for us at the time. I was heartbroken. But you are absolutely correct. We can bloom where we are planted. We can live perfectly happy and fulfilling lives right where we are!!
Although, I must admit, I do still dream of condo life.
Hmmf.
Yeah, I guess it's been said before, right? Let's keep our dreams alive, shall we?
Love this, Mamie...my sentiments exactly! When I start thinking, "if I were ____, I could do ______" I too realize I can do that thing right where I am and with what I have. Life is truly in the NOW! Beautiful!
Wow Mamie! That's what I did in the 3 years before I moved to Orlando. I started living in Raleigh and look how well that turned out (I met you and the fabulous UCT family).
Where ever you go there you are :-)
You'll always be with yourself and you can always have the life you dream about here and now!
That's one of my favorite saying: Wherever you go, there you are.
For the past year or so Mike and I have been going back and forth between Chatham Co. and Yancey Co. When we're in the mountains, we talk about going home to Chatham. When we're in Chatham, we talk about going home to the mountains.
I've decided I don't have to decide where I'm going to end up, because no matter......
Yep, folks, we have to work at being happy in whatever place our feet happen to hit the earth. Thanks to all of you for checking in and taking the time to comment.
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