Moving, memories and making it count

Oh the happy joys of cardboard boxes and packing tape!

My dad, a military brat (and professional mover by the time he could crawl) recalls moving more times before the ripe old age of 13 than most children move in a lifetime. As a kid, I remember him saying that Grandma always hung up the curtains first, and there were specific things she did to make a house feel like a “home” no matter how long their family was destined to stay.

Taking up that Brannan mantle of wandering early on, I too have moved many times since leaving home. For years, the constant back and forth from road to ranch and the never-ending cycle of unpacking after one show…to simply repack for another, tattooed a heartbeat of movement down the blacktop. Even when I would be “home,” my thoughts would be on the next place, the next trip, the next bag packed.

The subtle way being at ease on the “go” has impacted not only my younger experiences, but this chapter as well, cannot be overstated.

Moving to Washington D.C. has felt, in a way, almost like being on the road. A beautiful stop-off on the grand trip of life. My little house contains just enough precious memories and treasured belongings to remind me of home, but not enough to allow roots to take hold in the sandy soil of the capital. Some mornings I wake up and sip my coffee while re-reading a book on Charlie Russell and swear I can hear a cavy being jingled somewhere on the high desert. Frequently, I call loved-ones as I walk to class. It’s precious time to steal. I’m greedy about hearing their voices and excitedly whisper updates on the latest happenings while hauling books and coffee across crosswalks and cobblestones.

This moment in time is, I recognize, just that….

A moment.

No matter how hard we try to control or dictate the ways and means of things, our journey through life simply cannot be pre-planned and the twists and turns mapped out in advance. Someone else holds the map, and I am simply making my way the best I am able, watched over by Him. What a gift to know I am not in the driver's seat!

This move has been different than all the others.

Not better, not worse, but different. An adventure in its own right, with unique roadblocks and pathways through challenges I never anticipated. Through the process, I’ve learned a little bit more about living in this present moment–rather than anticipating the next move.

I read a beautiful quote a while ago that said something along the lines of:

“We are great at preparing to live our life, but we are bad at actually living it.”

There is great truth to that statement. And there is great relief in setting down the worry of tomorrow, to enjoy the gift of today.

It is just that, a gift. And one I fully intend on appreciating to the fullest extent every day.

I hope you’ll join me.

xoxo

AB