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Hello again to our “forum friends”! While I have "lurked" whenever I could, I have missed posting while coping with the double burden of an overfilled plate and membership in the clean plate club. Thought to catch up a bit this evening. (As usual, bring your lunch or move on—ha ha!)
"How at home do you feel?" one of you posted recently. The sincerity and importance of the question did not escape me.
After seven months in Hendersonville and the last three months in Asheville, the answer is complicated in the sense that it touches upon everything—politics, obesity, color, creed, crime, dialects, economy, education, piercings, tattoos, alternative lifestyles, over-development, environmental protection, degree of friendliness, new landscaping, remodeling plans, social networks, music students, music groups, medical systems, even mosquitoes. And at least as much as anything else, churches! All of these have impacted “how at home” we feel, and, to be honest, it’s been overwhelming! We’ve been through a hurricane of change and the kind of dizzying, grueling, unrelenting work that’s been aging us fast and even injuring us—our hands, elbows, feet, knees, backs. It’s been even tougher than we thought it would be, this transition from San Diego!
The honeymoon, for us, is over. That giddy feeling that comes when everything is new (unknown) and wonderful (exciting) and totally future-oriented (the slate is erased) is like “falling in love”—remember that? It is by its nature precious but temporary.
While relationships are everything, we have learned (again) that family and friends can disappoint, and that, even worse, we can disappoint ourselves. Relationships, both old and new, can crack especially under the strain of upheaval; boulders can tumble down. As they say, you can move but you have to take you with you, and when you get there, you may find that you only thought you knew them.
On top of that, we miss friends in San Diego much more than we even thought we would (we definitely thought we would!). That hurts, too, because for us there’s no turning back now.
It all hurts.
Dreams and reality can be polar opposites (which brings us back to the original subject of this thread).
Yet we still have absolutely no regrets about moving here from San Diego. You must be thinking, “How can that be?”
The answer certainly won’t be true for everyone. It is for us:
These MOUNTAINS and these SEASONS are the stakes that hold up our tent every single day of our lives—and especially when the world cracks and crashes around us.
And when I say "mountains and seasons," I don't mean JUST those big, time-honored, strikingly beautiful mountains we worship as the very face of God. Or those awesome seasons, with their dormancy, rebirth, fullness, and colorful transition back to dormancy.
I also mean the frog that made me gasp when I almost stepped on him in the dark of evening the other day. He couldn't have been more than an inch and a half across, yet for me that tiny creature was as beautiful and awesome as those big old lovely mountains. I saw him again just yesterday, only a few feet from our front door...
I also mean that friendly black snake we swerved to avoid on the road from our community to the highway... and, on the same road, that endearing young squirrel we slowed down for while he straightened out his confusion... and those birds and katydids and crickets that decorate the night while we sit speechless in the gazebo....
That beautiful fox that crossed the road in the early evening as we approached our house the other day? I was moved at the thought that someone had made a fox’s tail into the stole that my PA mother gave me as a keepsake.... I was glad I’d given it away to an aunt years ago.... Today I would have burned it.
And you know those “Easter bunnies” that live in cages until some child has neglected them to death? Hey, we see families of cute wild rabbits here almost every day! We cannot imagine making them “Easter bunnies.” They’re not wind-up toys or pets. They don’t even belong to us. Like all of creation (including us), they belong to God!
So...
“How at home do you feel?”
Words are worthless to describe it!
Bill and I are recapturing the sense of God--the God of our youth, before life got complicated--and the God of our middle years, before life got scary.
I’ve always believed that "people disappoint; music, never!"—and it’s true that music (“the voice of God”) has always sustained me.
But here in these WNC mountains, God HIMSELF is the music of our lives! However imperfect we and our relationships are, we feel a much more direct connection with God through this land, these seasons, these mountains, this wildlife. Everything else is fleeting... and meaningless.
So, “How at home do we feel?”
We’re “at home." That doesn’t mean we don’t experience pain. On complicated levels, we certainly do. But on a basic, foundational, one, simple, ultimate level, we don’t. Thanks be to God, we’re “HOME” and we’re here to stay. On bended knee, that would be.
We hope and pray for the same blessing for YOU when you move here, and if you don’t! Obviously, God is everywhere!!!—just waiting for us to feel “at home” with Him!!
Peace and joy,
Jan
Last edited by the Parkies; 08-02-2008 at 01:54 AM..
Hello again to our “forum friends”! While I have "lurked" whenever I could, I have missed posting while coping with the double burden of an overfilled plate and membership in the clean plate club. Thought to catch up a bit this evening. (As usual, bring your lunch or move on—ha ha!)
"How at home do you feel?" one of you posted recently. The sincerity and importance of the question did not escape me.
After seven months in Hendersonville and the last three months in Asheville, the answer is complicated in the sense that it touches upon everything—politics, obesity, color, creed, crime, dialects, economy, education, piercings, tattoos, alternative lifestyles, over-development, environmental protection, degree of friendliness, new landscaping, remodeling plans, social networks, music students, music groups, medical systems, even mosquitoes. And at least as much as anything else, churches! All of these have impacted “how at home” we feel, and, to be honest, it’s been overwhelming! We’ve been through a hurricane of change and the kind of dizzying, grueling, unrelenting work that’s been aging us fast and even injuring us—our hands, elbows, feet, knees, backs. It’s been even tougher than we thought it would be, this transition from San Diego!
The honeymoon, for us, is over. That giddy feeling that comes when everything is new (unknown) and wonderful (exciting) and totally future-oriented (the slate is erased) is like “falling in love”—remember that? It is by its nature precious but temporary.
While relationships are everything, we have learned (again) that family and friends can disappoint, and that, even worse, we can disappoint ourselves. Relationships, both old and new, can crack especially under the strain of upheaval; boulders can tumble down. As they say, you can move but you have to take you with you, and when you get there, you may find that you only thought you knew them.
On top of that, we miss friends in San Diego much more than we even thought we would (we definitely thought we would!). That hurts, too, because for us there’s no turning back now.
It all hurts.
Dreams and reality can be polar opposites (which brings us back to the original subject of this thread).
Yet we still have absolutely no regrets about moving here from San Diego. You must be thinking, “How can that be?”
The answer certainly won’t be true for everyone. It is for us:
These MOUNTAINS and these SEASONS are the stakes that hold up our tent every single day of our lives—and especially when the world cracks and crashes around us.
And when I say "mountains and seasons," I don't mean JUST those big, time-honored, strikingly beautiful mountains we worship as the very face of God. Or those awesome seasons, with their dormancy, rebirth, fullness, and colorful transition back to dormancy.
I also mean the frog that made me gasp when I almost stepped on him in the dark of evening the other day. He couldn't have been more than an inch and a half across, yet for me that tiny creature was as beautiful and awesome as those big old lovely mountains. I saw him again just yesterday, only a few feet from our front door...
I also mean that friendly black snake we swerved to avoid on the road from our community to the highway... and, on the same road, that endearing young squirrel we slowed down for while he straightened out his confusion... and those birds and katydids and crickets that decorate the night while we sit speechless in the gazebo....
That beautiful fox that crossed the road in the early evening as we approached our house the other day? I was moved at the thought that someone had made a fox’s tail into the stole that my PA mother gave me as a keepsake.... I was glad I’d given it away to an aunt years ago.... Today I would have burned it.
And you know those “Easter bunnies” that live in cages until some child has neglected them to death? Hey, we see families of cute wild rabbits here almost every day! We cannot imagine making them “Easter bunnies.” They’re not wind-up toys or pets. They don’t even belong to us. Like all of creation (including us), they belong to God!
So...
“How at home do you feel?”
Words are worthless to describe it!
Bill and I are recapturing the sense of God--the God of our youth, before life got complicated--and the God of our middle years, before life got scary.
I’ve always believed that "people disappoint; music, never!"—and it’s true that music (“the voice of God”) has always sustained me.
But here in these WNC mountains, God HIMSELF is the music of our lives! However imperfect we and our relationships are, we feel a much more direct connection with God through this land, these seasons, these mountains, this wildlife. Everything else is fleeting... and meaningless.
So, “How at home do we feel?”
We’re “at home." That doesn’t mean we don’t experience pain. On complicated levels, we certainly do. But on a basic, foundational, one, simple, ultimate level, we don’t. Thanks be to God, we’re “HOME” and we’re here to stay. On bended knee, that would be.
We hope and pray for the same blessing for YOU when you move here, and if you don’t! Obviously, God is everywhere!!!—just waiting for us to feel “at home” with Him!!
Peace and joy,
Jan
Jan, as usual it is great to read your words We can always count on you to "keep it real"!
Frankly none of what you have written surprises me one bit...it is just about everything I expected to hear you say as you approached your one year anniversay of the move. Yep, I'd say you are right on schedule, lol. I am sorry for the painful disappointments and homesickness you feel for your dear friends - but if you weren't such awesome people to begin with I doubt you'd have any of it, and I for one would hate to think of you being anyone other than who you are
I am sure on your two year anniversary you'll have more to add to this commentary, and I for one look forward to continuing to read about your journey. Until then, I am taking a cue from you and further reinforcing the idea to my hubby that when our time comes to make such a big move we will NOT be doing any of the heavy lifting or any refurbishing on our own, LOL!
Jan, thank you for sharing your, dare I pun, moving experiences. As someone stuck where life is still scary*, I like reading your comments about the trade-offs and transitions. While we wait out my husband's retirement, I know our inevitable move is overdue and over-ripe. Even a 4-day trip to a dog show in Lompoc CA (as continually derided by W.C. Fields in "The Bank Dick") felt like a paradise of serenity compared to life in Los Angeles.
*scary life detailed in the immigration forum here, since City-data bumped everything about the illegals who've so wrecked our quality of life in L.A. to those threads.
Jan, as usual it is great to read your words We can always count on you to "keep it real"!
Frankly none of what you have written surprises me one bit...it is just about everything I expected to hear you say as you approached your one year anniversay of the move. Yep, I'd say you are right on schedule, lol. I am sorry for the painful disappointments and homesickness you feel for your dear friends - but if you weren't such awesome people to begin with I doubt you'd have any of it, and I for one would hate to think of you being anyone other than who you are
I am sure on your two year anniversary you'll have more to add to this commentary, and I for one look forward to continuing to read about your journey. Until then, I am taking a cue from you and further reinforcing the idea to my hubby that when our time comes to make such a big move we will NOT be doing any of the heavy lifting or any refurbishing on our own, LOL!
Take care my friends!
Thanks, lovesMountains, for your compliments and for making me LOL to hear that we're "right on schedule" for all the conflicting emotions and experiences we've had so far. I have to wonder why I ever thought we were "the only ones" to go through this. Thanks for the perspective! (Hey, newcomers!--enjoy the "honeymoon" while you have it--take lots of pictures and record your thoughts in a daily journal--they'll be totally precious and funny some day!)
I hope that newcomers won't make all the same mistakes we did. For example, when our community hired a company to lay new asphalt on our roads, we were smart enough to hire them to do our driveway at the same time. That saved us tons of time and money, plus we got the driveway re-surfaced much sooner than we otherwise would have, priorities being what they are. But the day before the workmen came, we suddenly realized (oops--too late to hire it out now) that the driveway needs to be prepared for them! Wind and water had dropped several inches of soil onto its margins, and by the time we were finished shoveling it out, in a panic--convict labor!--I had injured both elbows, and they have not recovered weeks later! With my left arm, I can still hardly lift a frying pan.
In the short three months we've been in our 17-year-old house, we've partially re-landscaped, totally redesigned the kitchen, laundry/wet bar, and parts of three bathrooms. We've planned the replacement of all of the furniture, furnishings, wall coverings, window coverings, and floorings. Nothing inside will remain untouched. Demolition will begin in eight days, and all the work will be done before Thanksgiving. But I have often been present only in body at times when I should have been joyful, and we have missed, and will continue to miss, most of the summer activities here. Three weeks ago, I sprained a foot rather badly in a foot massage machine and can hardly walk now--yet life does have to go on, so I just hurt a lot and worry about my foot.
Suggestion to newcomers: DON'T try to move in fast, as we did! We felt driven because we have been SO long in painful transition--since January 2007--so we wanted to get it all done NOW. But if you can control yourselves better than we did, we'd suggest you take your time and move in gracefully. The tortoise really does beat the hare, in the end, I'm afraid....
You got that right, lovesMountains. We need to "take care"--better care!!
Jan, thank you for sharing your, dare I pun, moving experiences. As someone stuck where life is still scary*, I like reading your comments about the trade-offs and transitions. While we wait out my husband's retirement, I know our inevitable move is overdue and over-ripe. Even a 4-day trip to a dog show in Lompoc CA (as continually derided by W.C. Fields in "The Bank Dick") felt like a paradise of serenity compared to life in Los Angeles.
*scary life detailed in the immigration forum here, since City-data bumped everything about the illegals who've so wrecked our quality of life in L.A. to those threads.
Thank you, fastfilm. I feel so bad for you and your husband in that awful place! Once we finish our remodeling and are "sane" again, maybe you two could come stay with us for a week and "rehab"! Remind me--when does hubby retire?
Well, the mountains, seasons, animals, music, and God all came together for us this evening. A friend/student invited us to her home for a "jam." She and her husband live 11 minutes' drive straight up a mountain just outside the town of Black Mountain. There were eight musicians and a few non-musician spouses--mostly mountain dulcimers and lots of wonderful singing, with a strong guitar and my hammered dulcimer. Everyone brought something to eat, and after the "social hour," we played for three more. Three domestic cats amused us while the wind in the trees entertained us outside. We made music and sang with the fullness of joy in the knowledge that all manner of wildlife was listening. It was awesome! They do this every month and invited us back. Oh my!
Well, the mountains, seasons, animals, music, and God all came together for us this evening. A friend/student invited us to her home for a "jam." She and her husband live 11 minutes' drive straight up a mountain just outside the town of Black Mountain. There were eight musicians and a few non-musician spouses--mostly mountain dulcimers and lots of wonderful singing, with a strong guitar and my hammered dulcimer. Everyone brought something to eat, and after the "social hour," we played for three more. Three domestic cats amused us while the wind in the trees entertained us outside. We made music and sang with the fullness of joy in the knowledge that all manner of wildlife was listening. It was awesome! They do this every month and invited us back. Oh my!
Hi Jan and Bill...ouch, sorry to hear of your troubles. Did I ever post about my 1st drive up here to stay for the summer 3 summers ago and I had sciatica and by the time I got to Georgia I fell out of my car and broke my wrist....yikes...I spent till mid august back in fl w/ a cast on my wrist which was broken during my fall and I was in EXCRUCIATING pain from sciatica. My 'honeymoon' is not over. I have enjoyed my 1st winter here and I've lived full time in my wonderful farmhouse since March2007. I am deeply in AWE of EVERYTHING around me. I feel some sort of spiritual connection w/ my house and small town living and I thank God EVERY DAY! I was in fl for 10 days to see my Mom and I YEARNED to return home. How at home do I feel???? I have NEVER experienced anything like how I feel living here! I still pinch myself!!!! LOL! Annie
What a kind offer from onliners afar! Thank you Parkies, but it may be a while. We are hoping for a partial recovery of the housing market to coincide with husband's retirement in a bit over two years...
In the meantime, keep posting your helpful hints about relocation and transition.
Well, if it gets too crazy for you, remember the offer's open, fastfilm.
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We can always count on you to "keep it real"!
...I spent till mid august back in fl w/ a cast on my wrist which was broken during my fall and I was in EXCRUCIATING pain from sciatica. My 'honeymoon' is not over. I have enjoyed my 1st winter here and I've lived full time in my wonderful farmhouse since March2007. I am deeply in AWE of EVERYTHING around me. I feel some sort of spiritual connection w/ my house and small town living and I thank God EVERY DAY! I was in fl for 10 days to see my Mom and I YEARNED to return home. How at home do I feel???? I have NEVER experienced anything like how I feel living here! I still pinch myself!!!! LOL! Annie
