Tuesday, May 8, 2012

All of my history etched out at my feet

Somehow, it is only Tuesday.


It's been a little less than two weeks since I knew for sure that I was moving back to the Twin Cities. I've taught my last classes, turned in one set of grades (I get the next set of finals on Friday), and made my grad students very happy by opening up my academic bookshelves to them. I have reserved space for my worldly goods on a moving truck, and leased a new apartment in St. Paul that I love.


Said moving truck comes in 21 days.


I still need to grade that second set of finals, and clean out my office at school. I need to pack up my house, which will involve a lot of sorting, as I am moving into a one-bedroom apartment. As much as that will be work, I'm glad to do it, glad to pare my life down to the things I really love.


I guess that's really what I'm doing in this move - paring my life down to the things I really love. I'm looking at what exactly I need to do the work I'm going to do - the writing - and also, at what exactly I need to make myself happy. And it's a weird sort of thing, to think about happiness as part of a life plan, and maybe that says some things about me, that I haven't included it as a major part of the calculus before. (Or at least not since choosing a college in high school, which was really the last time - half a lifetime ago - when I really thought I could do whatever I wanted, and so I should pick the thing that would make me happy.)


I know I'm going to have to work hard. And there are going to be days that worry me, the days that all of us have, when I feel that any career other than being a writer would surely have been a better choice. There are going to be times (probably about 6 am on a February morning, when I am walking Sam I Am) that I curse the weather. But all of those things are my choice to have. And I am going to work, and shape my life, in a way that looks like happiness.



7 comments:

  1. I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again in the next month or two: I am so, so, SO happy for you. I can already imagine you there and settled, Being a Writer. ("And what do you do?" asks new acquaintance. "Oh, I'm a writer," you reply with complete honesty.) The whole idea makes me smile. I hope you're smiling, too.

    <3

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you! I am smiling so much. Even when packing.

      Delete
  2. I'm excited for you! The weather in the Twin Cities does indeed leave a lot to be desired, but good friends make cold, dark winter nights less cold and dark.

    I'm sad only that we will miss you by a few days when we visit the Twin Cities for Memorial Day weekend. But we'll be back at some point, probably in two years at the outside, because Heather's conference there occurs every two years.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm sad to miss you, too! In terms of seeing people, I planned poorly - I'm arriving right after a major local SF con, and leaving here right before BEA - both times where I could have seen a lot of nonlocal people.

      Delete
  3. This sounds like a tremendously great decision. Your excitement is palpable, and I'm right in your corner. I've taken some similarly strange and difficult steps into my own writing life (Gah. I actually hate that phrase.) Not going total freelance yet,but in that direction. It's going to be hard. It's going to be great. I can't wait to hear about it. And I can't WAIT to read the book.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. "It's going to be hard. It's going to be great." Yes. I think you are exactly right. Thank you.

      Delete
  4. I don't know how many times you've moved before. I did it seven times. Every one of them (though some more than others, of course) was an opportunity to rethink my life. To get rid of ballast, to rearrange things in a way that made more sense, to find once again what seemed to be lost forever.

    (And it looks like that's the main reason why you're moving.)

    Take your time.

    ReplyDelete