One of the things that I had to overcome when I moved to North Carolina was the ability to appreciate my new surroundings. My husband and I chose our home based on location to each of our jobs. We worked in opposite directions, so the best choice in our minds was right in the middle. We looked at the map, chose and area and my dear husband went on the hunt for a home that would fit all of our needs. This decision allowed for a shorter commute, a short time to wonder each day where I had moved to. I went from older neighborhoods, with individualized and unique character, to new neighborhoods, with consistency and cookie cutter style. (Little did I know, that if we had gone ten minutes down the road either way, I would have no felt so far from my comfort level.) This transition was not an easy one. It was also not easy to watch large areas of trees being cut down to construct subdivisions and strip malls. I currently live in a very new area, that when I tell people about it, they say, “oh that was all trees 10 years ago!” This “newness” has allowed for a new interpretation of what beauty is.
As our first year turned into a second, and the realization that we were not leaving was clear. My impression slowly began to evolve and we were notified that our rental was being sold. We were in a time crunch (isn’t everyone when they’re told that the owners want to sell asap…or yesterday) to find somewhere to move with zero energy to explore other areas of the triangle. This landed us in another subdivision with new homes and young, empty trees. It took the birth of #theadventuresofsj, to really appreciate where we chose to call home. Like with any new baby, I spent a lot of time day dreaming about sleep and wakeful nights pacing a swaddled newborn. I was observing the qualities that I had missed for over a year. The way our neighbors set up soccer drills and the way the chain saw roars on everyday but Tuesday as the general store behind my neighborhood gets ready for the weekend bonfires.
These are the characteristics that make me feel that this new place isn’t new at all. The familiar characteristics that remind me of my mom’s cooking and my grandma’s back porch. You know that feeling–the one that gives you the warm and fuzzies. The one that makes you feel okay to step over your comfort level line. I challenge you, to find that comfort level and step over it. Start with one toe and work your way up to a leap. Share you comfort level story in the comments below!