Postcard from the Wilderness

Yes, I’m still in the process of moving. And now, for those who might be interested, here’s a rambling update from my present wanderings through this disorienting desert between my old home and new.

First, it must be acknowledged, moving hurts. It is painful in every way the sensation might be measured. From the sheer physical pain of moving heavy furniture down stairs to the even more agonizing emotional pain of not knowing where or when you are going, moving is an excruciating experience I hope never to repeat.

Even with the hopeful promise of all that lies ahead, I have found myself grumbling and complaining in these present conditions. This living “in between” homes is truly despairing. I think I finally understand where those unhappy Israelites were coming from. And I have greatly magnified empathy for those transplanted refugees of modern times, often unfortunate casualties of brutal dictators and policies. While unlike both of these groups, I have been blessed with gracious interim accommodations to supply my every need, still I find myself more unsettled–literally and figuratively–than ever in my life.

I think it comes down to control. I’m realizing exactly how much solace I find in controlling my environment. Not having my own surroundings to directly control has been an unnerving experience for me. All of my worldly possessions are somewhere in three PODS. Internet is a rare luxury. My mail is on hold, until further notice. Granted, none of these are life-threatening disturbances, yet somehow everything together makes my universe feel devoid of gravity, with me merely an isolated fragment of space rock powerlessly floating–or is it falling–further away from earth.

Okay, I know I’m sounding melodramatic. I guess I really am a control freak to be this freaked out by having no control of this situation. Even my husband is surprised by complete change of temperament. But really, did the U.S. debt ceiling and credit rating cut have to come at exactly the time we’re trying to get a loan? I mean, I know I can’t control those big things, but at least when I have a home, I can find little things to control. Here, I can’t even recycle properly, and the wastefulness is driving me crazy!

There’s something else. We’re moving to Oviedo, a city about forty minutes from the south Orlando community I’ve come to know and love. While technology helps maintain contact, it cannot be ignored that even with those friends for whom I care most deeply–including the 4 Chicks, of course–our day-to-day shared life together is changing. I think that’s what hurts most of all. I can clean both sides of the sliding glass door here as many times as I want, but it still can’t help me find clarity on how I’ll navigate through this geographic change.

Since I can’t share any pictures in my current techno-challenged state, maybe this musing isn’t so much a postcard as a love letter. I’m sending it out to the Chicks, to my loving friends at Peace Church, to my hard-working ballet class friends, to my very talented friends at the Osceola Center for the Arts, to my daughter’s most cherished, long-time friends and her wonderful piano teacher–I love you all.

That’s how things look from at this mile marker. Yes, I’m lost. But I now have an acute appreciation for all I’m leaving behind. This promised land? It better be good. Until I get there, guess I’ll have to keep surviving in this seemingly barren middle ground on faith, hanging onto what feels like just a small thread but continues to hold the full weight of my fears and frustrations. Hope to see you soon on the other side.