Pursuing the Path to Vitality: Fulfilling the Vision of 2015

As you may or may not know, my husband and I have relocated from the Houston, Texas area to Gaithersburg, Maryland, a once small town outside of our nation's capitol, now grown due to its proximity and public transportation accessibility. Little did we know when we dreamt of this move a year ago that we'd be able to fulfill it so clearly. To everyone else, our move may look rash or bold, but it is, in fact, the culmination of our vision for the future with diligence, hard work, and support from our family.

By no one's fault, my husband had determined we could not stay in Texas. He was born and raised there and had had his fill. Even if there was something satisfactory about his work or his home, he had made it clear that he would still be bitter about being "stuck". Of course, we tried. We even took a long weekend to Austin, the one place in all of Texas we could see moving, hoping it would be the compromise we could live with. Alas, as we drove away, my poor husband announced, "Nope. It's still Texas, and I hate Texas."

I'm sure you've asked yourself by this point, But what about where YOU want to live? Truth be told, I didn't have an opinion. Gushing as it may seem, I am perfectly happy to live wherever so long as I get to sleep in the same bed as my husband. Oh, sure, I have opinions, and they were quickly expressed any time a suggestion surfaced that required careful analysis. Australia? Really... have you looked into their immigration policies? Yes, that's right, dear. They don't want us because we want to have kids soon, and if we have a child there, then they'll be forced to either keep us against their will or deport us with a newborn, which no one looks favorably upon. Sound familiar? Yeah... So, we whittled it down to within the continental United States.

But an amazing thing occurred after that. My love had an epiphany. It was more than just "we're not staying here", but it extended into a vision of "we'll be moving before the end of this year". It was a beautiful moment that I cannot fully capture in words, but it ended with a dream we both clung to: we would be in a new place by Thanksgiving, enjoying our annual Lord of the Rings marathon in the comfort of our own home. Truth be told, I don't think we fully believed we could do it, but we had to move forward as if we could. As if there was no turning back.

We worked, and we saved. We researched, and we fantasized. And then we reached a tipping point. I'm sure you've felt it at some point in your life. It's that moment when you are primed and ready to make a major decision, and find yourself more afraid than ever to make it. We found ourselves asking, would it be easier to just find an apartment here? Should we just have children now and move later? Well, it was more my husband. I'm quite accustomed to listening to that quiet voice that beckons for something more. Sure, it would be easier. It would not, however, be what you want. It would be what other people want for you, and they only want it for you because they are afraid for you. And that's no way to live.

Perhaps by happenstance or by fate, we'll never know, I learned about Liz Gilbert's newest book Big Magic, just about the time of this "tipping point". She hosted a short podcast, Magic Lessons, that explored the topics in her book to sometimes hilarious, but always insightful, ends. With our 90-minute daily commute (yes, that's three hours a day stuck in a car; even if it's with the love of your life, it gets old quickly), we started listening to podcasts, and this one crept into our lives just as our doubts had peaked. Please, by all means, check it out for yourself. To summarize would deprive you of finding the message within the journey meant just for you, but we did figure out our message: pursue that which gives you vitality, and curiosity is the key to finding vitality.

Okay, maybe when you boil it down it sounds too vague, but consider how it extends into every action, every decision we make. When job-hunting, curiosity is what keeps us from becoming depressed when we don't get the job. When moving to a new city, curiosity is what drives us to become engaged with our community and explore its merits. Even moving away from family, curiosity begs us to find a creative way to keep the connection of love alive until we can embrace each other again. But more than anything, curiosity takes the pressure off of the explorer to produce results from the expedition and returns the focus to the journey itself. We don't know what lies ahead of us, nor did we know when we packed up a fifteen-foot Uhaul and trekked across the continental United States, but we did so with an open mind, a willing heart, and a well-prepared set of intentions.

On my last day at work, I said goodbye to many, including some whom I did not realize considered me important. And each one had a similar version of one burning question: Why are you leaving? Here's the story that arose from repeatedly grasping for the truth:

My husband was there for me when I needed him, and now he needs me. He needs me to believe in him in a way he cannot yet believe in himself, and it's a role I'm happy to fill. I can find work anywhere, but he needs to be in a place that has more opportunities. He also likes the cold and he likes being near water, so when he fell in love with Baltimore, I was not surprised. In fact, I was kind of relieved. Maryland is close enough to people I know to have a safety net, which is what I required moving forward, but it is also new enough for us to make it our own. Is it what he wants? Who knows. But it's a good start. And what is a life worth if you can't take calculated risks to make it your own? I'm invested in my husband's happiness, and, in doing so, I'm finding my own path to vitality.

Stay tuned, I've got another blog post to follow which will expand on hints I've received from the Universe about what is on the horizon for 2016!

Cheers,
*~K~*

Time-of-the-Month Musings

Have you ever tried explaining the feeling of cramping to a man? I continually use the image of testicles being squeezed in too-tight pants. Not pinching, mind you, just squeezing. The kind of tension that prevents you from standing straight, or leaning forward, or wanting to move in any direction, really. And while I shift in my mesh office chair to find a position to relieve some part of the pressure on my aching ovary, I am actively envisioning this death-grip on a metaphorical testicle (I've only got the one), so that I may mentally loosen said grip.

It's not working.

I could take pain medication, but that'd just flood my pad, and I don't have any back-up clothing should that go awry. Let it be known, however, that I do have etherial female vocalists from one of the Lord of the Rings' soundtracks to help convince me of my impending serenity, that blessed world without menstrual cramps.

Maybe chocolate would help. But I'm not usually hungry when I bleed (but afterwards, I'm dying for a steak). Maybe something I can nurse? I find a Bolthouse Farms Chocolate Protein Plus drink, a healthier alternative to the child-like chocolate milk. Perhaps a Chocolate Brownie Clif Bar to nibble on, should my hunger resurface.

NOM.

Nom nom nom.

Still crampy. I used to have a high pain threshold. What happened? Somewhere between 30 and 34, my body just decided it can't handle it any more. I shudder to think how that will reverberate into pregnancy and labor.

While putting together a presentation, which referred to the "pain scale", I found this little gem. It puts into stark focus the relative pain of child labor. Fun.

Time to deescalate. My current discomfort level is no more than a 10 on the above scale. But I still want to feel better, damnit.

Great, now my shoulders are sore, too. I'm thinking a summertime massage is in order. Though, summer technically doesn't start for another three days. Hmm.

I'm sensing beef will be necessary sooner than later. I text my husband, "So... I may have to renege on my proffer of Chipotle. My body may demand meat in mass by the end of today. Would Five Guys be out of the question?" Yes, I am often that pompous over text. He knows my need for beef, and will rarely refuse the craving, but he's quick to stifle any excessive desserts. 

And then I realize - I really do look pregnant. Look how bloated my midsection is! You don't really notice bloating when you're overweight until you are entirely inflated below the rib cage. Blech.

A bio-break, water, and a bit of walking helped, but now I'm thinking I'll have lunch so I can take medication without the other end of my innards grumbling at me. Healthy comfort food for lunch, along with an Injustice respite. My prego-like belly, coupled with my 10, has resulted in me moving about as if carrying progeny. But it's raining now, and that's comforting. The calming sounds of a downpour and accompanying thunderstorm sooth my agitated state.

Walking, I take the long way around, careful not to get wet, though the intermittent spray is refreshing. Warm rain, one of the few benefits of living in Texas.

Now I'm all alone in my office, and not a moment too soon; my lunch has made me gassy. Double cramps!

12.

Oh, Texas...

This has been a regular phrase of late. Ever since the big move from Denver, Colorado down to Dayton, Texas, I've been noticing more and more differences. Some so outlandish that it has elicited the aforementioned, "Oh, Texas" response. What else are you going to say when you drive 16 hours southeast, knowing you are still in the same country, and yet... very much not in the same country?

I can recall the first time it came rolling out of my mouth, "Oh, Texas". We were avoiding driving through Dallas by heading east towards Paris. Along the way, most small towns all seem to have working automotive repair shops, but also quite a few gas stations gone out of business. How backwards is that? They need upgrades for the vehicles, but not fuel?
I definitely "Oh, Texas"ed when I found out that gas stations in Texas give a discount on fuel if paid in cash. Why is that a benefit? So you have a better chance of making money off of food and drink sales?

There were also more churches through these small towns than there were eating establishments. Perhaps they need to feed their souls more so than their bellies? Now that can't be true. Texans seem to ADORE going out to eat. On that note, apparently barbecue baked potatoes are a thing here. In true "everything is bigger in Texas" form, these BBQ Baked Potatoes are HUGE!

This is approximately the size of the BBQ Baked Potato I was introduced to - HUGE! 

Two full scoops of meat over a meal-sized russet, plus any other toppings that suit your greasy fancy. If meat and potatoes are your thing, you can now have it smothered with barbecue sauce and cheese. Denver is all about their steak, for sure, but only in Texas would they look for more ingredients to induce a heart attack.

Now that we've settled into our temporary abode here, about an hour east of Houston, I believe I can safely summarize five common necessities of Texans.

5 Common Necessities of Texans
1) Trucks - Oy, do they love their pick-up trucks! And while Colorado is very well-known for having a large majority of SUVs and utility vehicles (Boulder in particular is known for its overwhelming number of Subaru Outbacks), Texas definitely leans towards the American-made, gas-guzzling pick-up. Now, it should be noted that most are not hauling anything, which either means it's a fad or people like having them in that once or twice a year instance where they would need a truck to haul something.
2) Beer - So much so that some parts of our family are wondering if we're related because I told them I don't like beer (mostly because I'm allergic to wheat). However, I did have to marvel at another "Oh, Texas" find: Wash-a-Beeria.

Please know the woman in the picture is not me, but she's translated my reaction pretty well.

That's right. A washateria, or laundromat, that offers food and, more importantly, beer. This seems like a neat way to make doing your laundry a little more eventful, but really? Someone's liable to shrink their sunday dress beyond decency with that kind of combination! Oh, Texas...
3) Guns - This one doesn't really bother me, as I was raised in Virginia, and have only ever lived in Colorado or Texas otherwise; all gun-friendly states. The only skills I was taught as a kid still ring true as Texan: riding horses and shooting rifles. But when every major establishment you walk into, including grocery stores, has a sign posted about the legality of bringing a loaded gun on to the premises, you know there is a standard here that is like none other. I won't lie, it's a little nerve-wracking.
4) Buffets - I'm not just talkin' about Golden Corral or Chinese buffets. They've gotten into a groove where everyone offers a buffet, especially for lunch. My husband and I visited the west side of Houston for a date day. We found an Indian restaurant that had good ratings, and wouldn't you know it, a lunch buffet. Don't get me wrong, it was good food, and a reasonable price. But... well... Oh, Texas...
5) Donuts - If there is anything Texans love most, it has got to be donuts. There are donut shops everywhere! Small town, down town, it doesn't matter. Mom 'n Pop, Shipley's, though no Krispy Kremes (well, not in the Houston area, anyway). This would be awesome, and fantastically indulgent, if not for my wheat allergy. But alas my desire to remain pain-free overrides my love of glazed donuts (which may well be one of my favorite things).

Maybe I can convince the donut-loving Texans to start making gluten-free options for us transplants? I think I could live in Texas if there were gluten-free glazed donuts available.

The only gluten-free glazed donuts I've ever been able to find, and they are sold frozen. Texas - your challenge has ben issued! Fresh, gluten-free donuts, available at your donut shops - GO!

But for now, I will just embrace the stares at Golden Corral when all I eat is the steak and salad.