Transplanted

It’s Monday and the first day of my plan to embrace my new life in The ATL–so far so good. I took a jog in Piedmont Park which is just across the street and enjoyed the light rain as I plodded along. Next I picked up the local weekly (Creative Loafing), sat down for some lunch and read a story about a 34-year old man who is dying from lung cancer. He’s getting used to new things, too, like planning his funeral (he’s developed a phobia for cremation and has opted for a “green” funeral instead). Message: If someone five years younger than me is adjusting to the idea that he only has a few weeks to live, I can explore my new neighborhood.

Next up? Tomorrow I think I’ll take our public transit to a part of the city I’ve never been in and see what happens.

So we’ve just finished our fifth week in our new apartment and it’s still feeling strange. And in addition to daily construction (during the week) in the apartment above us that includes drilling, I feel like I need to get out of the apartment every day–which can be a challenge since I don’t have a job or really any money. Which is kinda sad, right?

Well, I’ve decided to try something new. Rather than sit around and THINK about how I don’t feel comfortable in my “home,” I’m going to make it a challenge to do something different every day and then blog about it. It might include something as simple as jogging in the park, but I’ve decided accepting my situation means embracing it, rather than stewing and lamenting. And this isn’t easy for me, actually. I’m still intimidated by this new “big” city and part of me aches for the comfort of “home” wherever that may be. But I’m going to try my best to let go of the fear and find new ways to enjoy myself–maybe even discover that I’m not so much of a wimp after all.

If you have any thoughts about how you embrace your surroundings even when they are challenging, please feel free to share them here.

Almost one year ago today I moved 2,000 miles away from where I grew up and I left behind a lot–like all my friends, my social circles, my family, our home, the familiarity of my surroundings, etc. And I knew the move was going to be tough, but I wasn’t exactly sure why. Well, fast forward one year and it’s becoming much more clear. This human need to believe in the permanence of our lives is a big deal. Of course we all know deep down that nothing is forever, but who really wants to be reminded of that daily?

With our second move within the city, losing my job, indecision about how long we want to stay here, a bad experience on an airplane, and trees falling on houses, I’m fairly aware of my fragile existence. And I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing–it just doesn’t feel that great.

Why can’t I live forever? Why can’t I have forever to try on a bunch of career hats, maybe save the world a time or two and go on believing that everything I do matters, really, really matters? Or if not live forever, at least let me know what happens after it’s all said and done, just so I know what to expect. Is that just part of the challenge of life? You have this vague sense that you’re mainly just spinning your wheels, but you must have faith that each turn of the wheel is worthwhile?

See. Uprooting yourself leads to some deep thought and tough times that test your character–and resolve. So, do I still recommend it? Wow. I just don’t know for sure! I’ll have to give that some more thought.

So it’s safe to say that I’ve reached a bit of a rough patch in this new Transplanted adventure and it has almost everything to do with my ego. Because I’m in a new place, without a job and I’ve just moved into another unfamilar part of the city my sense of self is really shaken. Now I know that isn’t a tragedy, but I’d love it if someone could convince my ego of it.

I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately about this precious thing we call the ego and many Eastern religions and philosophers agree that the ego is basically the root of all suffering and that one should drop it as quickly as possible. My ego doesn’t like such talk. But it’s really got me thinking: what would life be like without an ego and is that even possible? Without it wouldn’t I just be fascinated by my new surroundings, rather than looking around for something familar and missing people “back home?” Would I stop trying to control things as much as possible to make myself feel better or is having a bit of control actually a healthy thing? And is it possible to function in a world like ours without a healthy ego?

If you have any thoughts about this, I’d love to hear them–and so would my ego.

So, after living in The ATL for a year, Brandon and I are giving up living in a house surrounded by trees for life in a high-rise building. And since this is the third time we’ve moved in four years, we’re a little weary from the packing/unpacking/resettling gig, BUT we’re excited about our new digs.

First of all, hurricane season is approaching and after our next-door neighbor’s home was destroyed by a tree in a freak windstorm a couple months ago and our house has, I don’t know, 40 trees surrounding it, I’m happy about saying good-bye to them. Plus we’ll be living on the largest park in Atlanta, Piedmont Park. It’s a great way to get outside, bike, walk and meet some people.

Secondly, our move will place us much closer to downtown Atlanta, a city that seems strangely unfamiliar since I’ve been here for a year. Shrouded in so many trees, I’ve hardly been able to see the sky let alone much of the city. So, I’m excited about that and hopeful that after a year when someone asks me “What do you think of Atlanta” I can give them a fair answer. Right now all I can really say is, “There sure are a lot of trees.”

Thirdly, so much moving in such a short amount of time is making it abundantly clear what we’d like to do next: settle down somewhere! Which brings me back to trees. There is something about planting roots in one’s life to establish some sustained growth that is very appealing at the moment.

So here’s hoping that during our next year in Atlanta, as we’re sitting high above the trees with a full view of the city, that we’re able to gain even more clarity: about our lives, our future and what our next great adventure will entail.

Peace.

Kristy

A Transplant’s Definition of Displaced: Today I pulled weeds at the home we own in SLC and I’m staying at my Mom’s pad for a few days while prospective tenants tour our rental home in Atlanta as my husband finalizes our move into our new apartment (whew).

Is it any wonder that my feet do not feel firmly planted on the ground? Someone stop this crazy Transplanta Train!

My days in The ATL have been fairly predictable since I work from home–and while some days I love that, other days I feel like I’m Bill Murray in “Ground Hog Day.” Welp, not any more. Times they are a changing again.

Because our one-year rental lease expired, we are moving to another part of the city. The decision was an easy one since we had a few complaints about the house, including a mold problem, cockroaches, it is apparently a mosquito nest in the summer, has spiders like I’ve never seen and trees surrounding the home which a) prevent me from being able to see the sky and b) fall on people’s homes, plus a shower that doesn’t work and the list goes on.

Now that we found a great apartment with a view of the city, yay, we have to down size big time (anyone in the market for a used mower that is self-propelled?) and move in a couple of weeks. Add to that a trip to Salt Lake so we can fix up our house for a new renter and me beginning to network in The ATL for freelance and there’s much less time to worry about trees falling on my head, which is great. (Pictures of the new view to come!)