This is the goals post I’d hoped I’d never have to write, but here I am and here it is. That sounds awful, but in the end it’s all positive. No, I’m not giving up writing, but I am facing a huge challenge after mid year that will add an element of unpredictability.
Okay, let’s get to the big bad right away…
Yes, I’m moving this year, as in 1200 miles away. It’s the decision I’ve avoided since 2018 and likely will happen in August.
I live where I live now for health reasons and because I adore the landscape. I’ve even lived in this same apartment for nine years, longer than I’ve lived anywhere.
I’m comfortable inside these walls, but outside them I no longer feel safe. Now, my wellbeing demands I go, and so I will. Given my age (retired), personality type (INFJ), and limited resources, it’ll be a difficult move.
I do what I have to do.
After nine years in the same apartment, there’s a lot to sort and discard, and a lot of preparations to make. At least I won’t have to move during a snowstorm like I did when I moved here in February 2014.
Okay, that’s out of the way, though it colors much of what follows, as you’ll see.
My physical health is a given and the best it’s been since my illness in 2009. If I can do even better I intend to do so via walking and yoga.
Moving, though, represents a risk given my body’s reaction is difficult to predict. My sinus issues, damaged lungs, and lung disease play off one another, but here they’ve all behaved. That could change.
Again, I do what I have to do.
Moving, though, should benefit my mental health. Through all this, it’s vital I continue to meditate and practice mindfulness as I face increased stress levels. Fortunately, my attitude is excellent.
As much as I’m comfortable in my little apartment, I WANT this.
I want increased safety when I step out the door. I want the kind of support that’s difficult to find here. I want the kind of diversity that’s non-existent here.
When your beloved caregiver tells you she’d move if she could manage it, it’s time to go.
It seems fitting that, after five years, I switched to a new book for my writing journal this year. The old one helped me plan my writing around the inevitable move. Thus, I was determined to have the entire Kovenlore series drafted before this year (I wrote the last two Nov-Dec 2021) and to establish an editing plan in 2022.
The move is why I won’t publish in 2023. It’d be a scheduling, tax, and time availability nightmare.
Therefore, my writing priority this year is to focus my full attention on Kovenlore Chronicles. I have a big file of changes my revision maps for the last few stories have sparked. First, though, I’ll make an initial pass through those stories to catch them up:
- Trellis House (the novella, which I’m over halfway through)
- Aramon Daughters – Book6
- Wrath of Purpose – Book7
After that, the really serious editing can happen as I return to the beginning, Trust in the Forgotten. I expect to be there before the move, but flexibility is key this year.
It really is as simple and straightforward as this, which was my intention from the start. It’s about understanding my strengths and weaknesses, which links back to mental health.
An exciting aspect is finally putting my money where my mouth is. I know the person I am and what I stand for. I come face to face with what I believe every single day when writing or editing my work. It’s time for me to be where there are others who share those values.
In a way, this is the culmination of the journey begun in 2005 when I started rebuilding my life (or maybe building it for the first time). It’s fitting, really, that I should find my true home before I publish.
There are no guarantees, but that’s okay. I’ve understood the reality that is betrayal and hostility since I was little.
I’m a nester, I like to settle-in and become comfortable. Events have made me increasingly desperate, making my choice all the more stark.
Back in 2007, after a cruel betrayal, I met with my then therapist who asked me what positive I could take from the experience. Almost I raged, but remembered my calm and looked him in the eye. “They gave me back control.” The control I’d unintentionally surrendered to them.
It’s much the same now. The positive is they’ve pushed me to do what I’ve long known I needed to do. For each of us, it’s about quality of life.