Tomorrow we’ll be starting the search for our new home upstate.

Well, to be perfectly honest, I’m going alone since it’s a weekday and Alan has to work. But I’ll be taking tons of photos and notes, obviously. And technically, we already looked at a couple of houses back in August just to get the lay of the land. We learned some very valuable information like: it was WAY too early to look- we needed to show up ready the next time to make a serious offer (since houses are getting snatched up right away these days), and…we have a soft spot for the old farmhouses that may or may not need some updating.

I’m having a lot of emotions about this major life step. Firstly, gratitude. Lots of gratitude. Having a house of my own has been a dream of mine since I was a little girl (kind of weird, I know). When I was in elementary school I loved going to antique stores and carefully examining the details on old wooden furniture and picking out fabric for my mother to use for my duvet cover. Just getting to look at the Zillow listings of houses this month and imagine our little family there has been a thrill. And soon, when I walk through the houses in real life and get a sense of the light, the energy, and the neighbors, I’m sure I’ll have to pinch myself to be convinced it’s finally happening.

But with that gratitude comes a degree of guilt, too. Due to a host of circumstances, some outside of my control, I have the privilege of entertaining the possibility of buying a house. And we’re not even moving to get away from a precarious or uncomfortable situation. I hear every day about people who struggle to pay their rent and are at risk of eviction. And people whose home life is dangerous and for whom quarantine was an enormous challenge. Some of my own friends discovered during the lockdown that they’d chosen an apartment that wasn’t really what they needed in a home- it lacked direct sunlight or easy access to laundry facilities.

This apartment has been good to us and saw us through our first year of marriage (our 1 year anniversary is next week!). It kept us sheltered and comfortable during the strange first half of 2020 with its quiet street and outdoor access. As I write this, I’m sitting at the metal patio set in our backyard watching the evening descend on this peaceful neighborhood. The morning glories are just starting to turn brown and dry up by this time of year, but there’s still plenty of vibrant purple and green that cover the fence on all sides, so we’re walled in by wilderness, even here.

And yet.

This summer, due possibly in part to Covid and to my changing relationship to my art and its commodification, I experienced a deep and overwhelming NEED to get to nature. Not to just take a quick hike in Bear Mountain each weekend (which was a really lovely band aid for a time), but to see/smell/hear nature so thoroughly that it becomes a part of my bloodstream. Sort of in the way that Sadie, who’s always happy and can adapt to anything, turns “on” in nature and something else takes over. I can’t imagine worrying too much about the future of my career or stressing over each morning’s headlines if instead of cement, I saw huge old trees out the window. And heard crickets instead of sirens. Well, maybe I’ll still worry (and sometimes worry a lot), but it will be tempered by the wise voice of Mother Nature, guiding me to more constructive ways to think (or to sit back and just be).

I’m also processing some feelings of anxiety as I enter into uncharted territory. Since I started down the path of a professional creative, living in NYC was the given. To opt out of that basic foundational element feels…reckless? Unprecedented? Even though I know it’s neither. But to willingly give up the known for an enormous leap into uncertainty definitely creates some squirmy feelings in my body. Deep down I’ve never regretted starting this process of relocating our family to the country. But ask me at 2 am when I lie awake with the Worst Possible Outcomes flashing through my mind and I might say otherwise.

I remember when I was first shown our current apartment in December 2018 I had a sudden and very sure feeling of HOME. As a matter of fact, Alan wasn’t with me on that initial viewing, so when I got back home that night and told him, “Well, that’s our home,” he made arrangements to get there ASAP and seal the deal. Maybe, at this time tomorrow, I’ll come through our front door and say, “Honey, it happened again.”

More to come. In the meantime, cross your fingers for us.