I've begun packing up our house and yesterday morning we began another househunt. Just ten days left and I'm feeling shockingly relaxed about this move, mostly because it doesn't involve getting our things across an ocean. I don't have to get rid of anything I don't want to, I can just calmly pack it up and take it to the next place.
What is interesting is that after all these years of living together, I still marvel at my husband every time we do this. My mind is constantly altering things to make it into the thing I really want. (Could I paint that wall? Bring in different knobs for the cupboards?)But his mind is able to wait calmly for the thing that is perfect just as it is. He has this ability to center himself and have faith that the picture in his mind will become real. It is a marvelous thing to watch and I notice it most of all when we are looking for houses.
Yesterday, we drove out into coffee country and down the winding mountain to an idyllic spot where all you could hear were the rustling of palm leaves. There was a tennis court on the property and an old restored Model T with a pack of wild chickens pecking about on the gravel drive. The house itself was a charming little jewel box of a place, tiny, but adorable.
I began mentally moving in immediately. It wasn't perfect. The kitchen was dark and cramped and the living room was a tiny slash next to it. I ignored this and began putting dishes away and stocking the pantry in my head.
But Eric turned to me and quietly said, "It's not quite right. I can't picture us here." And he was right. I could move in, but not imagine a life there. I aspire to learn to manifest my imagination the way that he does, and another move seems like a good way to practice.
What are you like during a househunt? Is it fun for you, stressful or both? It's sort of like trying on a life, isn't it?