Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
On April 30, my husband and I marked our five year “Bendiversary”—the day we moved from California and became Oregon residents.
5 years!
I can hardly believe it still. The years feel like they have passed in a flash. Some days it doesn’t feel like much at all has changed in those five years. Life is life no matter where you live with bills to pay, chores to do, errands to run, work to complete, etc. But when I stop and reflect, I can see that so much has changed—namely, me.
I remember why we chose Bend. It felt like home to us, and it was a good place to accommodate my dream of owning a bed & breakfast. Also, neither of us were tied to a job at the time. When you get down to it, Bend was the right place at the right time.
Between scouting visits and research, I soon formed an image in my mind of what our new life would look like and who I would be in this new place.
After five years, though, my life here doesn’t look anything like I had envisioned. Imagine that!
Almost everything about the actual move to Bend and getting situated went smoothly. I arrived already having a job as an assistant innkeeper at a local bed and breakfast, and we found a house and property that could work as a B&B.
I was making plans aplenty, for the new house as well as all the things I wanted to do that fit the picture in my head of this new life. I was going to learn to Nordic ski and finally put my snowshoes to regular use. I saw myself paddleboarding on the river and kayaking on the local lakes.
A couple months into this new life, though, my plans started to unravel.
Here’s what I didn’t plan on: That contrary to the picture in my head of how I thought my life would be—how *I* would be—in this new place, my soul had other plans. I couldn’t have known that this physical move would be the catalyst for a major internal shift.
On a soul level, I knew and understood things were changing. But I had no idea the challenges these changes would entail and what they would ask of me.
I ditched the idea of starting my own B&B. Oddly, that was the easiest change I made.
The more I followed my soul’s nudges, the more struggle and resistance I encountered. I recognized this angst and discomfort, though. It reminded me of life after my divorce. What I now understand was a tug of war between what my heart really wanted and what my mind thought I wanted.
Because I didn’t listen to my soul then, it cranked up the pressure. And this time I listened.
Listening meant slowly, over time surrendering the idealized image of and my expectations about this new life and me. As it turns out, who I thought I would be, who I thought I wanted to be, is someone I’m not. And the life I thought I wanted isn’t the life I truly desired.
In the space created by letting go of the me I no longer was and would never be, I found me. The me I am meant to be. The me I’m happy to be. And the life I have is exactly the life I want, a life that suits who I am now, a life that suits my soul.
Here’s what I know: Although moving to Oregon was the catalyst for the changes I have experienced—internally and externally—over the past five years, another catalyst would have come along to challenge me had I ignored the call this time around. And that’s a choice we always have, whether or not to answer the call.
Whether it’s a cross-town or cross-country move, a divorce, the death of a loved one, a new job, becoming a parent, or any number of significant events, life can change you in deep and profound ways if you let it.
The question is ... Will you let yourself be changed?