Well, we've made it!
After months of planning, packing, sorting, saying goodbye, and finally driving across the country, we've arrived on Vancouver Island.
And I have to say, there's something pretty wonderful about being here.
There's excitement, relief, and a sense of possibility. We're surrounded by beautiful places to explore, and I'm looking forward to discovering what life here might look like.
But there's something else, too.
Exhaustion. A little overwhelm. And a strange feeling of being somewhat untethered.
We're here. But we're not quite settled.
And I've been thinking about the difference between those two things.
When the destination isn't quite the finish line
For months, our lives have revolved around getting here.
There were endless decisions to make, things to organize, belongings to sort through, and logistics to figure out.
Then came the drive itself, with each day focused on reaching the next destination.
There was always something that needed our attention.
And now, suddenly, we're here.
The urgency of getting across the country has passed, but my mind hasn't entirely caught up.
There's still a part of me that feels I should be doing something. Organizing something. Figuring something out.
And, of course, there really are things that need my attention.
I'm behind on some coursework and feeling the pressure to catch up. There are financial realities to sort through, decisions about what comes next, and people I love whom I want to reconnect with, now that we're living even further apart.
All of those things matter.
But so does the fact that we've just completed a pretty significant life transition.
We've arrived at our destination. But I think some parts of me are still catching up.
Why even welcome changes can feel unsettling
One of the interesting things about major life changes is that they can bring conflicting emotions.
We can be genuinely happy about a decision and still feel uncertain.
Excited about new possibilities and sad about what we've left behind.
Relieved that something is over and overwhelmed by what comes next.
Our minds and bodies become accustomed to familiar environments, routines, relationships, and expectations.
Those familiar patterns help us navigate daily life without having to think about every little thing.
When so much changes at once, even ordinary activities can require more attention.
Where will we walk the dog?
Where do we shop?
What will our days look like?
How will we maintain the relationships that matter to us?
And what exactly are we building toward in this next chapter?
There's a lot to discover.
It's not surprising that we might feel a little unsettled, even when we're exactly where we want to be.
The pressure to figure it all out
I think one of the things I'm noticing most is the tension between wanting to enjoy this new beginning and feeling responsible for everything that still needs to be done.
Part of me wants to explore the trails, spend time near the ocean, enjoy a leisurely morning, and simply appreciate that we're finally here.
And then another part of me is already making lists:
Courses to catch up on.
People to contact.
Decisions to make.
Plans to put in place.
And I can feel how easily the second part can take over.
It's almost as though I need to have everything organized before I can fully relax into being here.
But I wonder whether that's really true.
Can I enjoy where I am without first knowing exactly where I'm going next?
It's a question I'm sitting with. And there is real exhaustion from the weeks and months of non-stop preparations, so I remind myself that spending time resting and recovering is not only okay, but necessary.
Finding our footing takes time
I suspect many of us have experienced some version of this, right?
Perhaps after retirement, a relationship change, a new job, a health challenge, or a period of intense responsibility.
We reach the other side of something significant and expect to feel a certain way.
Relieved. Settled. Ready to move forward.
Instead, we discover that adjustment has its own timeline.
And sometimes, the things that help us adjust aren't the things we can check off a list.
They're the ordinary experiences that gradually make life feel familiar again.
Yesterday I found a wonderful walking trail down the road.
We discovered a fun, little local pub to hang out at and play pool.
I was able to have an honest conversation about how I'm feeling with someone I love.
We have set up a dedicated workspace to re-establish a sense of rhythm to our days.
And we are working on simply allowing ourselves to be somewhere new without needing to know exactly what comes next.
Not everything that helps us move forward looks like progress.
I'm beginning to think that finding our footing is something we experience gradually, rather than something we accomplish.
_______________________________________
A Gentle Reflection
Is there an area of your life where you've reached a milestone or experienced a change, but don't yet feel entirely settled?
Perhaps you're putting pressure on yourself to have things figured out.
Or wondering why you don't feel quite the way you expected to.
Consider asking yourself:
What am I expecting myself to have figured out already?
Which things genuinely need my attention now, and which can take shape over time?
What might help me feel a little more grounded in this chapter of my life?
There may be things that need doing.
And there may also be things that simply need time.
I'm trying to make room for both.
Because perhaps arriving isn't a single moment.
Perhaps it's a process of gradually finding our footing, establishing new rhythms, and allowing the unfamiliar to become familiar.
____________________________________________
And for now, I'm going to try to enjoy being here, even while some of the pieces are still falling into place.
Until next time, here's to allowing ourselves a little time to catch up with the changes we've made.
Warmly, Shelley