What do you do when every part of you believes it is time for something new? How do you figure out what that even means? How do you pursue change when every change you make involves six people?
I think you do what you have always done. You write about it.
I have spent so much of my last dozen years living in a bubble. It has been safe and relatively quiet, many days looking like the day before and the day after.
For half of those dozen years I was perfectly content to stay in my bubble. I was a newlywed, a new mom and then a new mom again. Adjusting to that was enough adventure for me.
We spent those years pursuing the American dream and for a time that worked for us. We believed we were where we were supposed to be and we were grateful to be there. Life was not perfect but life was good.
In the fall of 2010 that began to change. That fall I began dreaming of a “Camelot” that looked vastly different than the one we were living in. I shared my dream with my husband and two close friends. Our conversations about Camelot were electric. They filled my belly with butterflies and my heart with fire. They ran goosebumps up my arms and down my spine. Those conversations took my mind to a near euphoric state. I began to wonder what was happening to me??
In December of that same year we discovered we were expecting our son, Canyon. With this news all dreams and talks of Camelot were put on hold as every cell of me, every molecule of me became devoted to giving life to my baby boy. It was all I could do for those nine months, all I could do until January of 2012 when Canyon’s health finally stabilized and I felt I could relax into the reality that he was here and alive and going to be OK.
That spring we put our house on the market. And in May we moved in with my parents. They were gracious enough to invite us in while we waited on the contract for our new house to be negotiated.
Long story short, we did not get to buy that new house. Nor did we get to buy the next house we pursued. Four long months later we wound up in Plan C, a run down but cozy ranch. A foreclosure that we fixed up. A house just a few miles from our old house.
By this time Camelot had nearly been forgotten as I spent my days struggling to climb out of postpartum depression and adjust to the disappointment of having to live Plan C, all while caring for and homeschooling a 7, 4 and 1 year old.
When we found out we were expecting Haven (surprise!) in December of 2012 I knew in my heart that all of my dreams of Camelot would need to be postponed for at least two more years. I knew me and knew what happens to me when I am pregnant and caring for a tiny one. Blessedly, miraculously my heart made peace with that. And my pregnancy with her and my first two years with her were cherished and peaceful.
But friends, my baby will be three this year. It is time. Time to pursue Camelot once again. My whole spirit, my whole being feels that this is true. These last twelve years have yielded much gain. This season of a dozen years is one for which I feel very grateful.
But I believe this season is ending. Making way for a new season. As seasons do.
I realized last month that I have been carrying Camelot with me this whole time. It has never left me, never released me. For five and a half years it has been here, evolving slightly, waiting patiently.
Sharing big dreams feels so scary. But writing my story is making me brave.
Maybe even brave enough to share my dream of Camelot…