I drove the long way into work today, skipping the freeway for the residential route that takes me down through a neighborhood filled with stately old mansions and an imposing cathedral. From this route, I can see into the downtown of the city we’ve called home for six months now. As I drove, I became aware of the fact that I feel very, very content here.
For most of my adult life, I’ve been wondering “what’s next?” What will be next job be? What will our next house be like (I’ve had 12 addresses in the 15 years since I graduated from college)? Where are we going to settle down? When will we have the first and then the next kid? I sometimes struggled to be fully present because it always felt like some big change was just around the corner, and often it was.
But now I’m here. I’m done having children. We are in a city that I love and can envision being our long term home, unless my husband’s dream of us somehow becoming Canadian comes true. I love our house and our neighborhood. After years of moving up the career ladder, I am, for the first time, not feeling a particular rush to get to the next level.
There is, for the first time, a real chance that my life could look basically the same next year as it does this year.
And I am totally okay with that.
Minnesota might be magic.