Gwen Moss: waiting

Yesterday we found out that we didn’t get the house.

We had been second in line with an offer on a home that was the best we’ve found since we’ve been here. “Best” in terms of being in a lovely neighborhood and in the right price range and having great bones and the buyers had until yesterday to get their troubled financing in order and they pulled it off at the eleventh hour. Good for them, bad for us.

And even though I knew it was a long shot, I was still bummed. But it wasn’t just the house that I wanted for the practical reasons I mentioned, there was a something more.

What I really wanted is an end to this transition period. An end to living under this umbrella of uncertainty, of not having a clear vision of what’s ahead. Yes, that’s it. It wasn’t the house that was so amazing (it was after all, a fixer) it was wanting to be done with this vague sense of waiting for our new life to begin.

Do you feel like there’s something in your life that you’re waiting for?

Some event or thing that will instantly spill magic all over your life, solve your current problems, plug up some missing hole in your life?

Because this is what I’m learning about waiting for that one special thing.

1. Real Facts Matter Less

Yes it’s true that there’s a shockingly low inventory of homes on the market here. The realtors even acknowledge it. And while the good news is that we’re finding out the neighborhoods we prefer, the bad news is that the minute a house is listed, there’s a line of people waiting to see it.

One of the first houses I went to check out was in a neighborhood I’d love to live in, but when I sat in the front of the home and called our realtor I found out that there had already been two offers. Both cash, I’m serious. And it had just come on the market that day.

And making it even more interesting was our meeting last week with the owner of the condo we’re leasing. It was such a nice visit. Until we learned that he had decided to have his college sons move into this place on June 1st—“if that works for you-“ instead of the original plan of “take as long as you need (to find a house).”

Are you laughing along with us? Because most mornings we look at each other with loopy smiles and shake our heads. And while usually I can roll with things, I felt an immediate let-down when I found out we were back to square one.

2. Perspective Matters More

Do know the worst thing about losing out on the house?

It was the morning after.

It was waking up in our little condo and suddenly seeing all the little things that bug me. The dog hair on the felt runner I’d put on the slippery stairs for Stella. The messy clothes on the bed because the dressers are in storage. The boxes still stacked in the spare room.

Nothing had changed. But I realized that my perspective had changed. All of a sudden getting close to having a house that I wanted had flooded me with impatience. A dissatisfaction with our current place.

Although at least I know it’s me. It’s my own head trip.

Down deep I know all this so-called “waiting” is an illusion. There is no in-between time slot that exists in life, no putting life “on hold,” no proverbial train station to sit in while life goes zooming by. We make these time constraints up in our heads. And when we create these false scenarios in which our happiness is tied up to something outside ourselves, we create our own suffering.

The truth is, this is it.

This moment right here is my life. Our new life does not begin with any house, I’m already living it.

“If only I had this, then I’d be happy,” may be a thought that excites us, but it’s also one that causes us to miss out on living the life we have right now. And to overlook the blessings that are right in front of us.

3. What We Choose to Focus on… matters the most

Last Friday evening my cell phone rang and Patrick was on the other end calling me from school. While we were still talking the door bell rang and Mr. M. answered it. And there was Patrick, standing with a big grin on his face because we were totally shocked. He said he thought “we all needed to be together again,” so he drove six and a half hours for a 25 hour visit.

So all four of us got to hang out, talking, laughing, eating, and exploring our new city and returning back ‘home’ to our little, cramped condo.

And by the time we all hugged and kissed goodbye, the worrier (Moi) who feared that we would lose something irreplaceable when we moved out of our treasured family home… learned another lesson.

Home is actually not a location after all.

Did you know this already?

Home is really a feeling.