It has almost been one month since we moved into our new home. There are still boxes needing to be unpacked and cabinets to be sorted. We have furniture in weird spots throughout the place. Still, it’s beginning to give the illusion of a settled, semi-normal family. I mean really, I walk into our family room, look at that set up and almost forget three of us are completely nuts. Especially that rascally baby!
And I’m starting to feel like I left my words in our old home along with my routines, rituals, and a new box of Magic Erasers. Maybe it’s the larger space but I’m having trouble rerouting my old patterns; the time of day I used to write doesn’t seem to fit. I feel really dumb doing what used to be my regular exercise routine. I don’t even have an appetite for the foods I used to crave with my whole body!
I was just staarting first grade when my family moved from Richmond to Boston (OK technically Mechanicsville to Easton but can you find those on a map?). A couple months before the move my parents sat me down and explained what would be happening. After asking whether or not there were schools in Boston, my second question for them was “do they speak our language there?” I was so scared I would be misunderstood and would misunderstand everyone around me. To be clear, I did for a while. Moving from the land where every day is brought to you by the letter “R” to the land of “pahhking cahhs” was not easy. Happy to report that by eighth grade I was fluent in sox-speak and it was wicked awesome.
What’s going on now is a small echo of my first grade fear. In this move, we’ve been very conscious of the house “as is.” We’re not trying to renovate every little corner and this calls for a certain kind of openness. We’re not going around talking about how we’re going to rip out this and re-paint that. We’re treating ourselves as sort of protectors of this house’s history.
For now, it’s a time of receiving and listening, hearing our voices bounce back off different walls, feeling what it’s like to have more distance between bodies. And as we learn the language of our new home, I hope that you too may walk into the new corners of your life with an openness to the stories waiting for you and the willingness to go forward from this learning in new directions