After pulling up stakes and moving 3000 miles across country to a place where I know no one, essentially starting over at age 50, I spent a lot of time beating myself up because upon arrival I didn’t instantly have it all figured out.
I don’t know what I was thinking. Was everything supposed to fall into place, as if I could just pick up where I left off in Florida, like the new job and the new place to live and the 3000 mile drive were mere hiccups in my day-to-day routine? Reinventing yourself isn’t for sissies, let me tell you.
Fast forward 6 months, and yes, I love where I’m living. I’ve even more than halfway unpacked. I love 95 percent of my job, and I actually go long periods of time not dwelling on the other 5 percent. I’ve even started to establish a stable, albeit quirky, routine. And I can now go several places, like the library and the grocery store and to work, without relying on my GPS, which is nice.
But yeah, I admit it. I haven’t made a single friend outside of work yet, and that sucks. I’m lonely. And before you even go there, I’ve been given a million suggestions about how to rectify that. If I pursued them all I’d probably be so popular that I’d have to change my phone number just to get some peace. So I feel kind of guilty. I should be on top of things. I have all the tools. And yet, here I am, alone.
But today I started humming the Arlo Guthrie version of the Garden Song, which has also been famously sung by John Denver; Pete Seeger; and Peter, Paul, and Mary to name a few. I’ll attach the video so you can check out Arlo’s hilarious take on it, but meanwhile you know the song. It starts, “Inch by inch, row by row, I’m gonna make this garden grow. All it takes is a rake and a hoe and a piece of fertile ground…”
And I suddenly realized that what I’m doing is transplanting my life. I uprooted myself from Florida and I’m putting down roots here. That’s going to take some time and patience, some love and care. I just need to go inch by inch. I don’t have to beat myself up when, at the end of the day, the whole darned garden isn’t planted and in full bloom.
I need to give myself a break, do things correctly and with positive intention, and it will all work out in the end. Yes, I have the rake and the hoe. I’ll get there.
Next stop for me is signing up for a pottery class at the nearby community college. That starts in April. I’m looking forward to it. And I’m sure I’ll meet some amazing people.
Forward motion is what counts. Even if it’s only an inch at a time.
The View from a Drawbridge 
Good luck, looks like I might be a stranger in a new town or possibly village in the next few months too! 🙂
It can be lonely. But it also gives you a great opportunity to reinvent yourself. And every day becomes an adventure!
Inchworm, Inchworm,
Measuring the marigolds,
Seems to me you’d stop and see
How beautiful they are.
Inchworm, Inchworm,
Sung by Danny Kaye for the Hans Christian Anderson movie.
Especially with Spring coming on, move as slowly as the inchworm and someone will discover your true beauty.
That’s another good song. 🙂
I cant give advice on making friends… almost all of mine I made when I was a kid.
Yeah, that’s the secret no one tells you. Make your friends while you’re young. When people grow up and start having lives it’s a lot harder to grab their attention.
exactly
I want to see your pottery, too. You are so creative, I am sure there will be fractals involved
Oooh, that’s an intriguing idea. I’ll send you photos. 🙂 Don’t tell Sim, but was thinking of making something for him as thanks for letting me crash at his place. What’s his favorite color?
I’ve taken a very important lesson back from this post. I don’t know how you always manage to inspire xx
You are so good for the ego, Anju! Thank you.