Breaking the moving habit

© Krista Stryker 2010

There's something thrilling about moving.

I've moved three times in the last five years - from Portland, Oregon, to Amsterdam (yes, that Amsterdam), to New York City.  And that doesn't even count the times I moved within each city, or the five different colleges I went to across the country when I was still a student.

I just found out I'm moving again.

Here is what immediately pops into my head:

• New opportunities
• New things to see
• New people
• New hobbies
• New adventures
• An opportunity to start over and be who I really want to be, to do what I really want to do

Etc.

My heart beats faster just thinking about it.

Obviously, there is a strong theme of "new" centered around my views of moving.  For some people, staying in the same town, the same house, having the same friends, even staying in the same job - those are signs of safety.  Moving is scary.

To me, moving is a crutch.  I use it to get out of situations that I'm not in love with.  It's safe.

My career isn't working out how I wanted it to?  Move.

I haven't met as many friends as I would like?  Move.

The opportunities (to travel, join book clubs, play sports, insert whatever you want here) aren't there?  Move.

But this time, my gut tells me it's going to be different.  My husband and I are moving to San Francisco, not because anyone is making us go there, but because we want to go there.  His best friend lives in the city, and we've both always wanted to live in California (I lived in LA for a brief period during two of my educational excursions, but that doesn't count).  He's going to want to stay.  

I can't wait to move.  But the staying scares the hell out of me.

It means I will finally have to face my fears and stop hiding behind the excuse of 'constantly moving' as the reason why I never have a chance to do what I really want to do (write, create, etc.).  

It means I will have to start being ok with being a regular at coffee shops and grocery stores.  It means I will no longer be anonymous everywhere I go.  It means I will have to start making meaningful friends - and keeping them.  It means I will start having to take risks and face inevitable rejection and failure.  

It means I will have to start contributing, to start living, and stop hiding.

Wish me luck.