Wahoo for change!

In the past week I have observed two moves - physical moves.  One was my parents' who sold the house that they've lived in for the past twenty plus years to move back to their roots of Oklahoma.  They have been saying for years that they would like to be closer to family and recently they followed through - finding a new house, packing up a lifetime of accumulation, locking the old door and moving on to a new adventure.  The other was the yoga studio that I've been practicing in for ten years.  The owners decided that they would like to own the space that their business is housed in rather than renting.  A few months ago, they purchased a building, and began the process of creating their vision anew.

Both of these moves were entirely voluntary, both were what the "movees" said they wanted but, at least from an observer's point of view, very different.  My parents stressed, the yogis exalted.  Where my parents  seemed to come from a place of "how do we make this new place like the old place", the yogis looked at the new space from the point of massive possibility: "wahoooooooo,  a new beginning, how fun, lets see what we can create!".  Now my life partner and I are shopping for a house.  We've never lived together, we've each had our "own" space for many, many years.  How will we choose to experience this transition?

Years ago my sister described my approach to life as "my (Kristy's) way or the highway".  Interesting being that my partner is very much of that ilk.  Put the two together and you can imagine what combining two complete households COULD be like.  BUT we, I, can choose.  I know that I like things a certain way but I also know that I can let go, step back, and see what we can create together.  My new house does not need to be like my old house.  In fact, being in the new yoga studio yesterday, where everything was different than it used to be, I felt excited, exhilarated.  I had a physical sense of a new opening where I had become stagnate in my routine.  Change, transition, gives us a chance to shift, a chance to experience our world differently.  In my "my way or the highway" days, I was much more controlling.  I was fearful of the unknown.  I wanted everything to be the way I planned for it so that I was safe.  Or so I believed.  I think my sister would describe me differently now.  I may not be brave enough to face the unknown without quaking a bit in my boots but I'm working on it.  One day I hope to be able to honestly say that I celebrate in the unknown.