on change

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This month marks the three-year anniversary of my move to DC. I relocated immediately after my law school graduation (I am talking days) and it was probably one of the scariest decisions of my life. I packed most of my belongings into three giant duffle bags, shipped other items in a few epic trips to UPS, and gave away the rest of my stuff to lucky shoppers on craigslist. Up to that point, I’d sort of thought of myself as a nomad, moving around every few years. But this move felt different, more permanent. I was no longer a student. I was an adult, moving across the country to a city where I had no job, no friends, and no real plan. My parents drove to Salt Lake City, in my dad’s big blue truck with a trailer attached to the back, to help me pack and to pick up my furniture (which now bedecks my brothers’ “man cave”).  My dad choked up a little as he hugged me goodbye then waved from the truck. My mom stayed in town a while longer to see that I made it to the airport. There was no turning back.

Thinking back now on the decision, I am impressed at my nerve, and I can’t help but wonder how different I am from that girl who got on that plane. Moving to DC turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life. I’ve grown professionally and personally, I’m surrounded by inspiring, spirited people who care about me, and I fell in love with one of my best friends. I will never regret my decision to make a big, bold change and move to DC.

But I have been thinking a lot about change lately. After three years, I am contemplating new choices and paths for my life. It seems to me that change becomes harder the older I get. I worry more than I ever used to. It takes a greater amount of analyzing before I become comfortable with newness. I can only assume that this is natural and not at all unique to me. Anyway, change is good, necessary, right? It certainly scares me, but not enough to keep me still.  So, I suppose now (and for the next few months) the best thing I can do is take a deep breath, hang on to my sense of humor, and get on that plane.

Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.
– Oscar Wilde

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