Generally speaking, I like change. Stir things up a bit. Bring in some fresh faces. In the past I have often instigated change. If I become bored, or the landscapes gets too familiar, I'd make a change. It came easy for me - growing up we moved a lot and I got used to it. Of course, up to a certain point, I was relegated to live where the parental units chose.
I didn't always like where we lived (especially that long stint behind the Orange Curtain), but I made the best of it. When it finally came that I could be master of my surroundings, I admittedly made some dubious choices, but I had my reasons and I have no regrets.
I finally settled down in Los Angeles for about ten years, and even then I lived in four different places. But I was dug in, I had finally put down some roots. I had a large and varied social group and we had our routines - weekend breakfasts, pool and coffee at the Bourgeois Pig, art parties, poetry readings, the occasional 3-D slide show featuring wild mushrooms of South America, Thanksgiving at my place. I was really happy. Very settled.
Then change happened to me. A best friend moved far, far away. She was a girl I saw everyday. She lived across the valley - I was in Echo Park, she in Silverlake, and we could flash our kitchen lights at each other. We worked together, played together, sharing everything. She was and is a sister of my soul.
When she moved, (for a M-A-N - whom she eventually married so it's OK), my world was torn in two. It was physically painful to be in L.A. and not have her there. I kept on in my life but there was such a void. Letters and phone calls helped, but it wasn't the same as sitting on the sofa together and laughing at the antics of my roommate, or driving to the polo grounds in Malibu with the top down and the wind playing
mix-mastah with our hair.
After a while, I just couldn't do it anymore. I moved to Seattle. It was to be a temporary move. I never viewed it in a permanent way (or permanent for
me), but I've been here for fifteen years now. I left many other people that I loved - one of them is another sister of my soul, whom I have known since I was eleven! Still, I moved. It helped that a pair of best friends moved to Seattle at the exact-same-time. They have been my rock. I wonder if I would have lasted this long if they weren't here. Now I'm dug in. I've put down roots - again.
And... change is happening to me. Again. One of my best friends - yet another sister of my soul - will be moving soon. Where? We don't know the answer to that question yet. She just finished her PhD. and is looking for a job. She sends me updated excel spreadsheets of her job search. She has 45 jobs she is applying for. I send her my feedback: where I absolutely don't want to live, and, my top choices of places to move to. She in turn indulges my fantasy of moving to where ever she moves to. Before I go on, let me clarify: I am not a stalker. I just figure, if I'm going to move again it might as well be where one of my best friends live, right?
Here's the deal - I think it's harder to make the 'big' change as you get older. This is the second place I've learned to call home - will the next place ever feel like home?
Here's the other deal - I wonder about my reasons for moving. Yes, I'm feeling restless. Yes, for me it's pretty normal to do a big move every so often. But am I forcing a change in reaction to the change happening around me? Is this a legitimate reason for moving? I know that when my friend leaves, I will have that same heartache I had in Los Angeles. I also know that if I move I will miss people in Seattle as much as I still miss people in L.A. fifteen years later. But if I hadn't moved then, I would never have met these people whom I love now.
Here's one more deal - I have a tugging deep inside that pulls me towards India - I really want to go back to live for awhile - maybe a year or two. But that's a whole other issue. huh?