Uprooted

This year has been the year of changes. Last year around this time, I stopped procrastinating and started packing my bags for Phoenix.

I was excited and terrified, all at the same time. I was leaving everything I had ever known and taking a one way flight across the country to my boyfriend who had made a lot of changes himself. It was a TOTAL wildcard, but I had made a calculated decision and everything was set up for me there. We already had a house, I had a brand new car with my name on it at a dealership, I had a job waiting for me. I had everything there and yet I had nothing.

Since my boyfriend had moved to Arizona, (he was my ex at the time, but that's another story altogether) I had spent that time creating a wonderful life for myself in Buffalo. I had three (yes, three) jobs that I loved, I had spent so much time with my perfect princess nieces (one and three, at the time), and I had this awesome relationship with my sister and I had a schedule. I knew who I would have dinner with on Thursday and who would bring me coffee on Monday night or meet me at yoga Wednesday after work. I had it all figured out.

But something was missing. A huge part of my soul was in Arizona, and I needed to be there.

So I did it, I pulled up my roots and I quit my job and hugged my mom and dad goodbye and I cried puddles of tears on my best friend's shoulder and I got on that plane. I got on that one way flight with my whole life crammed into three suitcases and yet my whole life before me. 

Looking back on that moment, I can almost give myself a panic attack. I am SO happy here. I love my job and my relationship is fulfilling. I've started a successful business and I've made many great friends. BUT if I sit in my bed late and night and if I let my mind wander back to New York, back to my parents and my sister and my grandma and my nieces and my friends who are growing and living without me, I lose it. 

I know I'm where I should be, but I still feel uprooted sometimes. I feel like a paper bag, floating through the wind (can you tell that I spend too much time looking through song lyrics for similes to teach to middle school students?) But seriously, sometimes I feel so uprooted that I can barely feel my feet on the ground. 

But sometimes, I feel so incredibly satisfied with the life I've created, that I feel like I might never come down. 

I think that letting yourself be uprooted might actually be a good idea, after all. 

Love and Light,

Leah