Yes, I’m humming along to a song out of West Side Story, to myself. And that may be one of the least crazy things I’ve done this weekend.
There is so much running through my mind, I’ve been doing everything imaginable to wrap my head around it.
- Thursday — I decided to give up coffee. Cold turkey. And I’ve surprisingly not killed anybody. So far.
- Friday — I gave myself a Picasso-worthy sunburn sitting in my beach chair for the first time this season with some girlfriends trying to talk out some of the issues. Followed by a 3 mile + walk with 3 very energetic Italian greyhounds.
- Saturday — I tried to beat it all into making sense by doing my Pilates class, followed by a kickboxing class, followed by a 1 mile walk home, followed by a 5 mile bike ride which was then followed by an hour of restorative yoga. Which was all followed by a verrrrry long nap.
- Sunday — I opted/tried for a more zen approach. I had a leisurely morning, enjoyed a very healthy breakfast, a relaxing walk to get a manicure, a chance run-in with an old friend who I haven’t seen in over a year, another walk along the water to meet another friend on the beach, followed by a relaxing dinner at home – tucked comfortably in a pair of sweats and my Boston sweatshirt and a Red Sox game on in the background.
And through all of this I’m weighing my decision to go up to Boston on Tuesday in pursuit of what very likely could be a dream opportunity for me. There aren’t many days that go by that I don’t wonder what my life would be like if I was in Boston right now, as I had planned to be last winter. But at the same time that would mean letting go of my life here in New York. A life I love living. A beach outside my front door, friends all around, with Manhattan just a few miles away. And the thought of giving this up leaves me more than a little bit apprehensive.
I remember when I was first working on putting together my move to Boston, I had begged my dad to come out here to help with the drive up. Not so much for the physical loading, unloading, etc. but to help me leave this part of my life behind. Even moving from Chicago didn’t cause that much emotional effort, not beyond the usual settling in that is normal. But leaving New York? This was my life. I have been on my own 100%, no safety nets, all by myself from the beginning. I had to figure out my place all on my own. So am I now ready to leave it all behind?
I knew last fall that moving to Boston would be a move like none other. Right now I imagine that I will be back in New York (on the beach, of course) in the matter of 5-10 years. But really? Who knows?
Right now all I am I really convinced of is that something is on the verge of happening. And as anxious as I am about the implications, I am also finding it hard not to jump out of my skin waiting to find out what’s next.