Culture Shock (Tara Taylor Quinn)

So it's official. I'm moving. Right now, actually. My truck load of belongings is someplace in the United States. I'm in my car following them across the country. We're hoping (I'm hoping for both of us) that we end up together on Sunday. The official start of a new life. I'm counting on it being a wonderful life.

Here are some things I've noticed along the way:

1. You can take things, but not people. You can't leave your mail, but you leave your heart. No matter what, there is a part of my heart that will always belong to the life I've left behind.

2. Some parts of your old life go with you. Lessons learned. Possessions. And some people, too. I'm very blessed to be bringing almost everyone from the old life to the new. Some relationships are changing definition. Some are still in transition. But for the most part, I'm relieved to report that they will be traveling with me in some form or another. And for the one that is lost - a very dear friend - it was time to move on. And, still, I take a part of that with me. It will be with me. Always.

3. Sunny is sunny and grey is grey. Or are they? I'm leaving the sunniest place in the world. At least in all the world I've visited. I thrive on blue skies and sunshine. They lift my mood. And conversely, their opposite - greyness - depresses me. I'm one of those folks who is physically effected by weather. Weird, I know. And yet...I spent three weeks in greyness and got a book done, tuned into myself and life and those around me, decorated our space with bright vivid colors, and conciously celebrated when the sun did shine. I didn't take the beauty for granted. I spent four days in sunshine and got out and about, enjoyed the weather, had no space of my own and cried my way through the hours. And this I learned. It's not so much about what's outside as what's inside that counted.

4. Slow is not always worse. I'm a busy person. I thrive on activity. I bore easily. I've always lived in big cities, craving the stimulation, the choices. My two favorite US cities are Las Vegas and New York. I love the freneticism. The varied people. Differing lifestyles living side by side. I love the shopping! And I'm moving to a city that I could walk end to end during my morning constitutional. I have to drive 45 minutes to get Clinique make-up! And a fine dining restaurant is the local pub. (There are a few of them.) I resisted this horrifying circumstance, lamenting, complaining, knowing in my heart of hearts that I was going to wilt and fade away in this town if I didn't get myself out. And three weeks later, as I drove home (yeah, that was the thought in my head, go figure) from the city, an unexpected and unrecognizable peace settled over me. A slowing of the noise in my head, of my pace. I was driving more slowly (a huge feat to anyone who has ever ridden in the car with me.) I was noticing the houses - and the different things people had done to express themselves in their yards. I saw folks walking outside, sitting on porches. I don't mean I just noted beings there, I saw them. Felt them. Real living, breathing human beings with lives. I wondered where they were going, or what conversations they were having. I wondered what they were having for dinner and who was going to cook it. It occurred to me that my life had shrunk to tragically small proportions. Instead, my life had grown! Finally, instead of being side-tracked from what matters most, instead of being distracted by all the noise and the hustle and bustle, I was right smack in the middle of life, experiencing it in that moment. I'd reached a new, deeper level. And there is nothing negative about that. Instead of giving up life, I'd gained life.

5. Books get written - no matter what. I am here to tell you that I am well and truly a writer. It's not something I do, but something that I am. I write because I have to write to thrive. I write because when I get up in the morning, it beckons me, luring me in. Writing completes me. I write with tears in my eyes. I write in between horrible phone calls that are tearing my life apart. I write with a broken heart. I write when I fear that my life is danger. When I am losing everything that matters most to me. And I write when I'm adventuring into new, unchartered territory. I write when I have to pack up a life. And when I have to unpack one. I write while I'm doing laundry! Writing sustains me. It keeps me sane. It is the friend that is always there, no matter what, holding me up when all I want to do is fall into a corner and let this life end. It dries my tears. It sooths my heart. It brings me joy - no matter what my daily life is bringing me.

6. There is always, every single day, every single breath, something to be thankful for. These aren't just pretty words. I've experienced the lowest of lows - not all of them, but a few - and I found that if I looked around there was always something there that was good. Something I was grateful for. I'd learned to look for gratitude when I got blue, when darkness threatened to overcome me, and that lesson was put to the test. It worked. And I'm thankful for that!

7. It's never too late.

I promise.