art journal pages hinted at, I'd been going through a big discernment process about whether it was the right move. Boston's a pretty great place, and we had a nice little life going there.
Turns out that coming home was definitely the right move. A lot of angst we've felt over the past 8 years while we were living in Chicago and Boston feels lifted off our shoulders. An opportunity aligned with our desire to be here, and it all came together at last.
For years whenever we came home, I couldn't quite imagine us moving back. Home was all too familiar, and that made me uneasy. I always wanted to move away and experience other places. One high school teacher told us a statistic she most likely made up that 75% of us would grow up and live within 30 minutes of home. I thought that definitely would not be me. Nuh uh. No way. I can't stay here. Not that it's bad. It's perfectly nice. But I need to experience other places. I need to live somewhere with hills or mountains to climb, with new views.
So, now I have lived elsewhere. While away, I always wanted to be closer to family and friends, but was indifferent to living in Michigan again. But over the last year, especially, something shifted. Right now, this feels like exactly where we need to be. We don't know how long it will last. Two years? Forty years? We'll see.
Before leaving Boston, I had the most amazing week meeting up with friends. Totally unexpectedly, people gave me presents! A Knitting on the Road book, cute office supplies, a red velvet cupcake, this great book by a woman who grew up in the town where I taught. Most importantly, friends gave us their time, for coffee meet-ups, dinners, and help packing and loading the truck.
The day before the final 3-day packing/driving whirlwind, a friend and I got to go for an afternoon hike through my favorite woods. We took a route I'd never taken, but went to places I'd been so many times through those six years. On the way, we came across this spot. It was a spot I'd never seen.
I took this photo and then my camera battery died. This was my last shot from our leaving. A yet undiscovered, secret little pool in the woods, discovered on a long walk and chat with a good friend. A reminder of what I loved about living there.
In all the busyness, the camera never got charged, and then it accidentally got packed away in a box I couldn't find. I've been living without it for almost three weeks! It's been painful. Once the photography stopped, my blogging stopped. I didn't realize it until now, but my camera is my muse. Now that we're reunited, the storytelling about this new phase of life can begin.