This was a word picture, not really a poem, that I wrote many years ago after we had moved for the umpteenth time. Each time we moved, I contemplated the idea of “reinventing” myself or at least making some kind of change in me for the better like to be more organized, more outgoing, more creative, less grumpy, less judgmental. Well, the list went on depending upon where I was in my personal development, and what I was dealing with at the time.
The first big move I made with my family was from Denver to Bismarck, North Dakota. Whoa! That is a life change. The weather for one was something to survive. We flew into Bismarck in January to look for a new home. When I got off the plane the bitter, fridge wind hit me with a blast and as far as the eye could see were piles and piles of snow. Before I could stop the comment I said, “Now, I know what they mean when they say ‘when hell freezes over’. Hell must be just over the horizon, or maybe, it’s right here.”
The moving trip to Bismarck was in February in a U-Haul truck towing our car behind. As we settled into our new home, it became evident that the snow only fell one direction – horizontal. Since there were few trees between central Montana and Minnesota, there was nothing to stop the wind and all those fence posts were certainly doing nothing to slow it down.
Looking around my new situation, I thought it was the opportunity to invent a new “ME”. But what was that going to look like. Did I want to start wearing wild, crazy clothes. My wardrobe consisted of quite sensible clothes and colors. My mother taught me well. Or maybe I should join the local community choir and theater, become a local personality, get my picture in the paper. Or turn our lives and home into a community gather place for great food and drink, a place that neighbors and colleagues stopped by knowing they could at least count on appetizers and cocktails every evening or pastries and coffee every Saturday and Sunday mornings. Or a place where all the neighborhood kids and school friends of our boys would come to play and be entertained. Or delve into crafting and create marvelous things that people cherished, and that I could sell making lots of money.
In actuality, some or pieces of each of those things in some form or another did happen. We did have people over for cocktails and dinner. The boys did have friends over to play. I never joined a singing or theater group but I did work at the local YMCA in their preschool so that was community involvement. And one of the neighbor kids arrived every morning for breakfast dressed in his underwear sometimes like that in the middle of the winter. I did art and crafts that family and friends appreciated and cherished.
As far as major changes in who I actually was. Hmmmm! I guess the word “picture” above says it best. I’m changing, always changing but so slightly that it’s hard to see it happening. Right now, I’m trying to build a new life; more writing, eventually more art; perhaps some community involvement. It’s a totally new community, here in New Richmond, Wisconsin. I do know one couple that moved here a few years back that lived in our old neighborhood in Hudson. We have connected a few times. I’m contemplating reaching out further.
But MAJOR change? Does that really ever happen. I think we are imprinted at birth and in our early growing up years with who we are. Unless some cataclysmic thing happens that alters who we are, the changes are gradual. I’m different but you’re not going to see it unless you are someone from my “way-back” years. Here’s to staying the same and always changing. 😉
Deb’s Blog 