You might have an idea what this is about from the title–or not. I have sort of made a decision to move from the city I have lived in for the last twenty-five years. This happened rather suddenly; one might call it spur of the moment. For a decision that is a life-changer, such a falling-off-a-cliff process seems a bit not-quite-there. Thinking about the way this realization that a decision has actually sort of been made, I have concluded that some decisions are not really decisions, and that many decisions are quite indecipherable. (Blame my sister for word choices–she got me into a word-a-day email thing.)
The whole thing began when I got an email from a friend telling me that she and her husband had taken an impromptu trip to Seattle, and while there had decided to continue the impromptuness and go on to the ocean for a few days. Well. Oceans. You know how I feel about oceans (and feet, but there’s another story there). I want oceans, I need oceans, I love oceans. Living a ten hour drive from the ocean is torture to my blue mind (yes, there is such a thing, it’s science). So suddenly I need to live somewhere much closer to that blue water with big waves.
So now the question is where. Seems I have a bunch of family in the Seattle area. (And, my talent agent has clients there who might need me in their next major motion somethings.) But even Seattle is not all that close to the ocean. Maybe Portland. My Dad grew up there. As good a reason as any to move there. When I moved to San Francisco, back in the day, I knew exactly one person, but that did not stop me from loading everything I owned into my Karmann Ghia and moving (I didn’t own much–my folks shipped the organ down later). But Seattle is nice, with lots of green (comes from the lots of rain), albeit (another of those word-a-day words) VERY expensive. Also would require less driving on very overcrowded freeways.
Doesn’t this all sound logical and well-considered? It is not either of those things. It was a decision that was never really a decision; it was a reaction, and an emotional one at that. I cannot logically weigh oceans and family against good friends and four seasons. What has resulted in my series of moves toward moving house is not decipherable in any way. It simply is.
This whole thing is combinations of scary and hopeful, fear of being wrong and sadness at what I will be leaving behind while at the same time feeling a near certainty that it is right. How I came to this is truly indecipherable. What will result is unknowable. Remember all my thinking about time? There is a present, a now, and that is all. The future does not exist except in imagination. Sometimes, when life is just too big, imagination fails. What joy!