Thoughts on a Sunday Morning

Taking a break from our normally scheduled programming.

I woke this morning to a frantically scratching, allergic-to-life rescue mutt. Poor little guy. I rolled out of bed and bathed him, following it up with a shower of my own. As I washed my hair and enjoyed the hot water on this uncharacteristically damp, chilly morning, I found myself reflecting on my new life in Florida. I don’t know about y’all, but showers seem to be when I do a lot of contemplating.

If you’ve read any of my origin story on my stack, you know I didn’t leave my hometown in New York by choice. I’m a GenX-er, and had lived my entire life within a 15-mile radius of the city neighborhood I grew up in. I was content to remain there forever, my roots deep, appreciative of the low cost of living, good paying employment, great restaurants, history, arts, a revitalized waterfront. I was passionately in love with my city.

In 2021, when I scrambled to find employment elsewhere, knowing that very soon I could no longer practice in NY, I ran on gut instinct and guesswork when choosing where to go. I just didn’t have much information then. The best options seemed to be Texas and Florida. I went with Florida because Texas was even less appealing.

Now, I have to say regarding Florida, I had never set foot anywhere near the state, nor had I wanted to. The idea of Florida had so little appeal, I used to ask a friend of mine with genuine puzzlement why he vacationed with his family there (here) so often. I imagined nothing but swampy humidity and swarms of large insects. Looking back on this I just laugh at myself. All of those years dissing Florida was equivalent to saying I didn’t like a food I’d never tried.

We arrived in our new state of residence after a 6-week whirlwind of remote job hunting, packing up our lives, and moving ourselves with a 20’ U-Haul and a cargo trailer towed behind my Wrangler. Much was divested because it just wasn’t going to fit: dressers, desks, sofa. Car loads of other items went to the city mission thrift store. Near the end of the 16-hour ordeal packing up the truck, when we really ran out of space, more items were just sacrificed to the garbage. I won’t get into the more than 2 day nightmare of getting here, when it should have been an 18-hour drive.

Those first months in our new home were difficult. We expected some culture shock, but not the (pre-inflation) significantly higher cost of living coupled with lower paying jobs. Stores were unfamiliar. I panicked about food, unable to find much in the way of organic, clean foodstuffs when I was accustomed to having both quantity and variety at my fingertips. The apartment we leased (long-distance, sight unseen) so we could get to know the area before buying a house was a $1400/month roach-infested hell hole. I was desperately homesick. The list goes on.

As time went on, something happened though. I realized how desperately I had needed a change. How stagnant my life had been. Some people live their entire lives in a small geographic area, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but the change forced upon me was a blessing in disguise. My surroundings gradually appeared less foreign, familiarity grew, and I began to love my new home. Had I known even 5 or 6 years ago what I know now, I would have moved to Florida when real estate was still inexpensive. We could have purchased our house for less than half what we ended up paying for it and now have a home worth double our investment and have a half paid off mortgage. I get caught up in that thought sometimes, then remind myself it is unproductive. There is no changing what’s happened, I can only make choices for today and the days that follow.

I still miss family and friends, but I no longer miss my hometown, and struggle to even recall why I was so content to remain there forever. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, as a natural introvert, much of my life was spent fearing the new and unknown. There’s comfort in familiarity. Having my entire life violently uprooted and torn away from me was strangely just what I needed in so many ways.

I often say most of my life has been a steaming dog pile. If you look at facts and circumstances and events, that’s a pretty realistic assessment. But life is far more than the sum of its parts. Life really is what we do with those things and how we choose to respond. I look for the lessons now. I anticipate the growth in character new challenges will produce. I am a far stronger, more confident, no BS person today because of the almost constant adversity I’ve lived through. And, I didn’t merely survive it, I conquered it. I continue to conquer every new challenge that comes my way.

Am I always happy? Of course not. Emotions are mutable. I’m frequently exhausted and whining that I just need a break already. But stress passes, happiness comes for a time, and then the next obstacle appears. It’s a cycle I’ve seen play out time and again. I know the storm will eventually end and there will be calm, so, no matter where I am in that cycle, I am determined to appreciate my life and truly find the joy in big things and small things and everything in between. It’s become cliché to say that every moment is a gift, but I now embrace that statement. Were it not for the many obstacles I’ve overcome, I don’t think I would appreciate the reality of that truth. Circumstances can almost always be worse, and there’s never a shortage of things to be thankful for, though I may not see them right away.

The events of these past 4 years - which I frequently thought would destroy me - have also helped turn me back to God, Who I had pushed away for so long following horrific betrayals by some who call themselves Christians. Human nature - my nature - is such that I don’t reach out to God unless desperate, so sometimes He allows circumstances to bring that state of desperation. Until that point, though, I just stubbornly go at it with all my might, desperately trying to control people and circumstances, banging my head repeatedly against the wall of utter futility. After a decade-long marriage to a man who terrorized me daily, having had zero control over my home, my speech, what I did, where I went, who I saw, even my body - I am, 20 years after leaving him, still a hardcore c-PTSD control freak. Acknowledging once again that I can’t control anything outside of myself, and that I cannot do this on my strength alone, enables me to be and to do more than I could otherwise. Then, even in the middle of some pretty stressful stuff, I truly have that “peace that passes all understanding.”

Florida isn’t perfect, and I have serious questions about statutes in place that are antithetical to freedom. However, after enduring progressive politics and oppressive, restrictive bureaucracy in New York my entire life, it’s truly a haven. I also have concerns about DeSantis and his authenticity (or lack thereof), but whatever his motives, I can enjoy the fruit of what he and the state legislature have accomplished thus far. In hindsight, I realize Florida wasn’t really my choice at all. Some call it serendipity. I call it God leading me to where I am meant to be, though I was completely unaware of the guidance at the time.

I still make a lot less money than I did two and a half years ago, but I also have far less on-the-job stress. Finances are tighter than ever with rampant inflation, but our needs are met. It’s also become cliché to say money isn’t everything, but, y’know what? It really isn’t. It sure makes a lot of things easier, but quality of life is found in so many other ways. Now, I look forward to relaxing in my screened lanai, looking out at my yard full of blooming camellias and azaleas, my lemon tree heavy with fruit, drowsy dogs snuggled against my legs. In just a couple of months, I’ll be looking out at gardenias, hibiscus, and jasmine, breathing in the spicy scent on the air as a warm breeze ruffles my hair. And, I’ll remind myself in those moments that no matter what happens, even with the current state of the world, with life and liberty literally hanging in the balance and the likelihood of more exceedingly difficult times ahead, there is so much to be grateful for, so much to bring a smile to my face.

On those days when I cannot smile, I still have the assurance that I have been forged in the fire of adversity and I will not break.