Everything happens for a reason, Part 397

It occurred to me today that the majority of my posts for the last six months have dealt with change.

I've been craving it, personally and professionally, which is why I've revamped all of my classes this year and tried like the dickens to sell my house.

Confession: we just took the house back off the market a few weeks ago.

We tried again, July and August. Even had an offer. But it just wasn't...right.

For the 397th time, everything happens for a reason.

My epiphany--which happened in the car this morning--is that many times, it's not a change in scenery or place or location, but just a change in the way we think about our current one.

So we changed it up in our current house--makeover for the family room and the playroom: new paint, new furniture, new accessories. I've fallen back into that state where we finish a room and I just want to go and sit in it and admire how pretty it is.

And then there's our neighborhood.

Greg and I have been slacking in the half marathon training department. Just a month to go, and we are slowly building the miles. We've had to pay babysitters to complete these longer runs, but it is such a connecting opportunity for us. Some couples go out to dinner; we run long distances.

The thing about these long runs is that we are doing them in our neighborhood, and I am beginning to redefine what my ideal neighborhood is--at least temporarily. I value the friendly waves of the elderly faces on their turf-covered porches, and the familiarity of young families pushing strollers and walking dogs. The overgrown lawns and weeds and peeling paint I haven't quite come to accept, nor can I fathom appreciating the drug dealers, but I'm thinking this is a baby-step kind of thing.

And it may not have been a Neighbor Lady Night Out, but we socialized with our neighbors for the first time, well, ever (minus the sweet surprise baby shower they threw when I was pregnant with Will--so absolutely sweet and lovely minus the braunschweiger).

I've got a couple more Springs to watch my garden bloom, and at least another Summer to run around our backyard with the kids, and a Winter or two to enjoy our fireplace.

I appreciate this epiphany because it has drawn me back into the moment. No more looking ahead and worrying about schools, or what the four sides of our future house may look like.

Home is where I'm present enough to appreciate where I am.

Just a much-needed change in thought.