Why I Love Where I Live
“If your brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello.” ~Paulo Coelho
Moving to my eleventh state of New Mexico at age sixty-eight was more difficult than I thought. Not the physical act of moving. I’ve packed up so many times I sorta have that part down. I wasn’t prepared for the emotional sting of leaving my community behind. I miss my book club, hiking club, happy hour club, Nia dance group, great neighbors, and favorite hangouts. I long for the place where coming back from travel I got a warm this-feels-like-home hug.
According to a recent NPR FRESH AIR episode, many people are moving to escape climate change, the wildfires in California, the rising seas most coastal cities are experiencing, or the earth wilting droughts happening in the Southwest. I could go on with various life threatening events affecting the current climate migration.
My response, “Good luck trying to outrun climate change. No one is going to make it out alive.” There is no doubt our planet will be unrecognizable in decades to come.
Another factor in the shifting population is that Americans are aligning with their political ilk. A Redfin survey revealed that one-third of real estate brokers worked with clients who relocated because of politics or local laws in 2023.
There is a saying in AA, “Wherever you go, there you are.”
If not climate change or political affiliation, why did I make the life altering decision to move again?
Short-story-short. During a conversation with my daughter she asked, “Have you considered relocating close to me?”
“Yes, I’ve considered it,” I replied. After all, the southern part of Arizona experienced 112–115 degree days for about three months during the last summer. And, politics in Arizona is enough to make me join a state exodus. You know what I’m talking about!
The real reason I decided to move was to reside near my daughter. And, because I’m retired, and in great physical health, I can make that choice now before someone needs to make it for me. I have witnessed first hand what happens when elderly people procrastinate too long to make important decisions.
Voila! A month later I found myself residing in the Burque.
I’ve been here for seven months. I bought a house and sold a house. I completed the novel I’ve been working on for twelve years. I woke up with the new strain of COVID, and was out of commission for a couple of weeks. I took my yearly trek to Colorado for the holidays. And, I spent the entire month of March in South Africa. I’ve been busy, but that’s different than being “at home.”
Making a new home goes beyond the checklist of tasks. There is a real thing called place attachment. The first step to achieving an emotional connection with where you live is to make friends. In the past, I’ve made friends easily. Now, I find it challenging because I don’t go to work anymore, and my motivation to go out on my own is low.
“This Is Where You Belong: The Art And Science Of Loving The Place You Live,” a how-to-relocate book written by Melony Warnick, she suggests that being intentional in making friends is a good way to get started.
So, I set my intention to meet people by doing what has worked for me in the past. I’m an active member in the Sierra Club. I volunteer on Wednesday afternoons, participate in hikes and other outdoor activities I enjoy.
I joined the Southwest Writers and attend the meetings and online programs offered monthly. I discovered new yoga instructors, and practice Nia weekly with the same group of women. Again, finding a tribe takes commitment and time. I’ve learned that even though I’ve spent a lot of my school breaks visiting Albuquerque, it’s different to live here.
One of the ways I have met the most interesting people is while walking my dogs. People here are obsessed with dogs, and it seems the little guys are welcome almost everywhere.
A decade ago I moved to Tucson without a job and not knowing a single person. It took less than six weeks to be employed and engaged in several interesting friend groups. If you’re bored in Tucson, it’s your own fault.
The same thing happened in Flagstaff. I had the best job and friends of my life, along with the shittiest weather imaginable. Why would I live where roofs collapse from feet of heavy wet snow in March? I made a choice to move back to Maui.
Maui was a revolving door. Making friends and finding community was easy because people were new to the island, single, into water sports, and game for exploration. Unfortunately they were temporary, often leaving mid-school year as real life in Paradise is different than being on holiday. Running up monstrous credit card debt to be a teacher in Hawaii doesn’t make sense for long to most logical people.
Before moving to Maui, I was the mother of three children which was an automatic gateway to friends and community based on school events, nineteen years of soccer games, and the social connections of my children. Being the mom of three active, smart, adorable kids automatically made friendships for me in Pennsylvania, Wyoming, and Kentucky.
My husband and I met while stationed at NAS Lemoore in California. As a blonde nineteen year old — I didn’t need to work at making friends on a military base of five thousand men to one hundred women. The WAVE mantra was “the odds are good, but the goods are odd.”
Before I met him (Yes, the goods were odd but that never stopped me!) I was stationed in Florida and in San Diego, California. The United States Navy was my escape plan. Going to college? Out of the question in my family.
After I got married, we moved to Virginia and Nebraska which was my second tour in the Corn Husker State.
My life began on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota. It makes a great story… I was born a little white girl on the rez. My joke is that when you start life on the Pine Ridge, the only place to go from there is up. Not really funny because Jackson, Bennett, and Sheridan Counties are the poorest in the United States.
Poets, writers, and philosophers caution about comparing the past with the present, even though it’s common for most people to feel longing for a past location even if they know it wasn't perfect. Nostalgia plays a role in dissatisfaction in a new location. My dysfunctional relationship with geography led to leaving Maui three times and moving back three times. Each time I left the island behind, I would soon forget how difficult it was to survive on a teachers salary, the fact that I couldn’t afford a car. I taught in three schools and each one was unmanageable in its own unique way. I broke up with Maui for good when I approached sixty. I knew I couldn’t continue to work so hard to be anywhere. I ended up in Tucson because its warm and sunny, affordable, and easy to get almost anywhere from Tucson International Airport.
Once in a while person will ask, “What is your favorite state?” My reply is, “Hawaii of course.” I know my recollection is for a special time in my life, and a place that no longer exists.
“What about your least favorite state?” That's an easy answer, “Pennsylvania hands down.” Weeks of torrential rain, mushrooms growing inside my shoes, lack of sun and light, and a failing marriage made it nearly impossible for me to climb out of bed. However, three little children were counting on me to be okay. So — I pretended to be okay.
Messages are sent through odd couriers. Yesterday, I walked behind a big teddy bear kinda guy wearing a t-shirt that said:
Looking Back Is a Bad Habit
The author, Ms. Warnick advises, “ … just open yourself up to the possibilities that are here for you, which may not be what you expect…”
Moving is a challenge at any age, it can also be a gift. It’s a chance to change, and stretch in different directions. I’m grateful to be able to see my daughter more often in an organic way. We sometimes run into each other at the dog park, we get together once a week for coffee or a meal. Both of us are independent, self-reliant, and have the confidence to live the way we choose.
My new plan is to learn to play pickleball. Who knows? I may be the next Duke City Senior Champion. Or, meet a new friend. Either way, I win.
