Having successfully completed a cross-country move, less than a year ago, I figured an in-town transition would be a piece of cake.
We’ll pack up, rent a moving truck, haul our stuff a couple of miles, and life will continue as normal.
What I failed to consider, however, were the emotional and personal impacts the move would have on me. Here are three ways it affected me, and how I’m addressing each of them:
1) Regression to a Prior State
The past few years have been full of change and radical personal growth. Some lessons have been learned easily and others have been painful experiences, but as a whole, they’ve put me on a path I’m thankful for:
- I’ve gained freedom without alcohol.
- I’ve worked toward a healthier attachment style (as opposed to an avoidant one).
- I’ve found joy in writing about minimalism and productivity.
- I’ve experienced the lightness of tiny living.
With all of that positive growth, how has this recent move churned up feelings of regression?
- The home’s size. It’s bigger than we need. While our studio did become too small, our new place feels too large – by anywhere from 200-400 ft². Along with the added rental cost of the nonessential space comes the felt need to fill that space. After two years of decluttering, minimizing, and streamlining our stuff, the process of purchasing a bunch of new things again is a hard pill to swallow.
- Renewed challenges. If you’ve been in a long-term partnership, you’re likely to understand the strain that purchases and home furnishing decisions can put on a relationship. For Lydia and myself, those decisions have also stirred up deeper fears. One (for me) was the fear that more stuff would diminish my independence.
- Reminder of an anxious period. This new home has many similarities with a home we owned previously. While that home did see joyous times, it also saw some of the most challenging parts of my life to date. The first time I stepped into this new house, those memories washed over me – it was a powerful (and unwanted) reminder of that time and those challenges.
So is that it? I’ve officially regressed to a previous, more difficult period?
Of course not – here’s how I’m fighting back.
Resistance
Despite the ominous feeling of regression, there is hope.
Why? Because even when that feeling hits, I can remember that life is different. I’m no longer the person I was two years, two months, or even two minutes ago. Life moves forward, and so can I.
Rather than let myself be crushed by the feeling of regression, I can instead harness it to show me areas for potential growth. I can be grateful for the clarity it provides and engage in moving forward.
2) Weight of Darkness
Our studio was light:
- Physically. It was on the third floor of a building on a hill. It had floor-to-ceiling windows. It had incredible views of the sunset. It had crisp white walls and concrete floors.
- Mentally. Due to it being such a small space, our belongings were capped. We were content with what we had, and the space didn’t ask for more.
Our new home feels dark:
- Physically. It’s on a street filled with houses and trees, leaving us in the shade for much of the day. We’re not on a hill, so our view consists of the street we occupy. Sun is a precious resource.
- Mentally. Additional space prompts the regular itch for more. With more comes a weightiness and a feeling of freedom lost.
Resilience
Is the comparison of light vs. dark a bit dramatic? Most definitely, however, it presents a picture of where my mind has gone during this transition.
Thankfully, this doesn’t mean I’m doomed to feel weighed down over the coming year. While I can’t change some aspects of our new space, I can enjoy the unique benefits it does have and work to minimize the challenges:
- I can take advantage of the incredible parks and neighborhoods around me.
- I can appreciate the quiet evenings, without construction right outside my window.
- I can be thankful for the space to work from home without being in my wife’s way.
- I can revel in the lovely morning and evening light we do get.
Are there negatives to this new home? No doubt.
Do those downsides need to control my mindset? Absolutely not.
3) Loss of Momentum
A core piece of my identity is wrapped up in learning, growth, and development, so when those areas are lacking, it can feel like part of me isn’t living.
The feeling of a loss of momentum (as I’ve shared in my newsletter) has come from two areas in particular:
- Vague direction. When I was pursuing a career in the beer industry, I had a clear picture of success: making a living in that space. I moonlighted as a bartender. I studied to become a Certified Cicerone®. I worked for 1/3 of my previous salary just to get experience. I was in the game. Although my decision to stop drinking (and leave the beer industry) was the right choice, it still left me scrambling for the next thing. While I enjoy the line of work I’m currently in, I don’t yet feel the same confidence in the path I’m following.
- Major transition. The past year has been packed with a cross-country move and a significant career shift. The move alone has proven to be wonderful but also difficult – trying to make friends, learning a new area, and adjusting to all the minor changes it brings. Whether I like it or not, these changes have taken a significant amount of time and energy away from my “regular” learning and growth.
Engaging
The harsh reality is that it’s easy to cope, ignore, and lose focus in our world filled with distractions – especially when our energy is low.
It seems ridiculous that checking Instagram twenty times in a row would feel easier than engaging our creativity, but that’s often what we (or at least, I) do.
Because of my inclination to tune out, I’m choosing to embrace the creative process more regularly. I’m also planning to start a master’s program this summer.
While those won’t answer questions of meaning and purpose, they will (and are) reattuning my momentum to this new phase of life.
Final Thoughts
What is your move that isn’t a move? What life circumstance has caused more disorder than you could have imagined?
With that in mind, how can you resist regression, remain resilient, and engage in your future?
Let me know in the comments below or shoot me an email!