Wrangler Dani

Writer, editor, wife, adoptive mama and cowgirl living in beautiful Central Oregon.

On (not) embracing change

I met someone the other night who has serious wanderlust. She told me that she constantly has the urge to move – and that a few years is the longest she is comfortable living in one place. In years past, I would have tried to agree with her, because nomadic life does sound free and romantic, or I would have inwardly berated myself for not being more of a wandering soul. Now, however, I’m comfortable enough in my own skin to just chuckle, shake my head and say, “not me”.

It’s probably a little bit lame and it’s definitely sentimental, but I am deeply connected to place. When I tear myself from a familiar location I can hear the roots of my soul stretching and aching with the effort. I cling to friends and relationships and I am deeply loyal – usually I believe that others don’t see me the way I see them – so I often assume that I have to be present for them to remember and care about me. I am constantly grateful for and blown away by real friendship – I see it as a rare and precious gift to be treasured, and it breaks my heart to change it, which moving always does.

Recently, we had a visit from our dear friends, the Dos. We took off work for almost a week and showed them around our new hometown – seeing Bend through their eyes was an exciting exercise. We played at the lakes, we walked by the river, they even were good sports enough to go house-hunting with us. That kind of friendship is one that changes and grows but doesn’t stretch and break when people move or life alters. It’s the kind of friendship that makes me grateful for my sentimental, deeply-rooted personality, because I see this agape love in a new way, and I’m able to fully embrace the movement of a living relationship, not simply feel torn up by the change.

Hiking the Deschutes River with Holli, Huy and Sora
Hiking the Deschutes River with Holli, Huy and Sora

I guess I’m OK with being sentimental and tied to people and places. These are the people and places that have shaped me, challenged me, given me hope and made me laugh. Sometimes I ache for yesterday – for the ease or the beauty of the familiar – but then I remember that today’s challenges will be tomorrow’s beauty, that adventures are their own reward, that the relationships that matter always continue on. Today I’m rejoicing in a new place to get firmly attached to, and the chance to show it off to those I love.