Transition May Take Longer Than Expected
I made it to Boulder. It’s now the first of June, the first whole month that I won’t live in Houston. Michael and I will spend this month living at my parents’ house. It feels like the epitome of a soft place to land. My parents, recently retired, have just driven off in their new VW camper van, leaving us with a page of handwritten housekeeping instructions and the house to ourselves. The temporary workspace I’ve set up on the back deck looks out over the gently sloping lawn and beyond, to the indigo silhouette of the Front Range and the white-paneled pyramid of Long’s Peak behind that.
Colorado is almost unbelievably beautiful. The lilacs have been blooming since I got here; the air’s been clear and dry and the back range of mountains is still highlighted by late-season snow.
And yet I found myself frustrated a few days after I got here. Early May—before I dedicated two straight weeks to boxing up everything we own—was a really productive time for me, with minimal distractions, a looming deadline, and well-practiced rhythms. With all the packing and moving out of the way, I wanted to resume the same level of productivity.
But my body is not a machine. I couldn’t just hit pause, ‘pack and move’ in two and a half weeks, and then pick back up like before.
Quite often, I am the one with unrealistic expectations for myself. I’m trying to learn that moving from a place of joy and grace is more fruitful than self-flagellating.
I was annoyed that being at my parents’ house felt too much like vacation. So? Why couldn’t I just receive it as a micro-vacation?
My life in Boulder isn’t meant to look exactly like my life in Houston. Context matters. New rhythms will take shape here, and that will be both necessary and life-giving. For now, I’m focusing on the way light moves across the foothills. I’m paying attention to the shades of leaves in the trees and the flowers as they age: from the palest purple to a deep huckleberry color. {Michael, actually, had no idea that ‘lilac’ applied to a flower and not just a color. He was further confused to learn that lilacs—the flower—come in more shades than lilac, the color.} Irises, poppies, roses, and more.
