Changes can be hard to live with.

2016 has been a year of changes so far.

It started out in January with a health scare involving my boyfriend’s parents, which lead to him spending a month located three states and a time zone away.

A part time job that had only partially met my financial needs ended on February first.

I started an online business (The School of Lost Arts) teaching long-forgotten self-reliance skills via two-way live video, and got my first students.

I came to understand my faith in a way I never had before, thanks to a small church in a very old tradition (more about that in a later post!)

And, that understanding lead to a need to make a change in living arrangements.

It was hard.

Very hard.

It felt like we were breaking up.

I fervently hoped and prayed that certain jobs I’d applied for would come through, because unemployment was ending and I had no prospects – and I very much wanted to rent in the same part of town, if I could.

But nothing materialized. My options were nearly non-existent.

I held on to indecision for awhile, till I couldn’t hold out any longer. It tore me apart, but I moved back in with my mom.

Granted, she needed the help, and I needed a place to stay, but at my age? Moving in with Mom felt like a giant leap backwards.

I was in denial. Still am. I’ve refused to unpack so far (except for hanging some clothes in the closet, I’m living out of a suitcase). I’ve slept on the couch instead of claiming one of the bedrooms.

I didn’t want to admit things were changing.

Changes can be unsettling, difficult even. They force us to give up something in order to get something else.

“Is this a step forward, or a step back?” we wonder.

We fear the worst, and hope for the best.

Was this move a good thing or a bad thing? I don’t know, yet. I just know things are ch-ch-ch-changing and I didn’t want them to.

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