It’s hard to believe that we sold our house almost nine months ago and have been living in an apartment since. We miss our little house: it was charming and old, filled with nicks that stand for the stories that only fill old homes.
In an absolute contrast, we now live in a shiny-new suburb, filled with homes that all look the same, at least on the outside. While I know that this is the dream for some people, and that we are lucky to live where we do, the neighborhood doesn’t quite fit on us: it’s a skin stretched too tight, scrubbed pink and obviously fresh out of the tub. The day we moved in, a friend remarked “This is not you guys at all.” It’s true, but we are telling ourselves “temporary.”
And it is.
A couple weeks ago we sat down with an architect to sketch our someday home.
We are excited and nervous and oh-so-happy that life is moving forward after many years of waiting. One of these days I’ll tell our story of trying and failing to sell our first home, of the holding pattern we lived in for four years as we waited for someone else to fall in love with our little yellow house. But for now, we are learning contentment in this transition, savoring the simplicity of apartment life, and focusing on other efforts as we wait for next spring to arrive.
How are you learning contentment these days?
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