“Are you sure you wanna go back home?” I asked my husband in a shaky voice, hoping he’d say no.
I was reluctant to get on that plane this morning at 9 am. We had had such a rejuvenating trip to Boston the past four days and the thought of taking my coat off and flying back into easy life of Charleston felt daunting.
I don’t want to go back to working alone every day. I don’t want the warmer weather. I want the freezing cold New England. The coziness of curling up by a fireplace with hot chocolate. I miss it, I miss it, I miss living here. Maybe we could move here. But I’d move here for all the reasons I left. Not a good idea. Ugh.
For those of you who don’t know, I grew up in Connecticut. It’s not often that I choose to touch down in freezing cold New England for a refreshing trip with my husband. It had been over three years since I had been up to Boston and there was something new and unfamiliar about it. But that feeling was also coupled with the paradoxical feeling of familiarity; cozy and at home. One of my favorite all-time feels.
So why is it that I didn’t want to go home?
Were those tears just nostalgia from my childhood talking? Or is life just too easy in Charleston? Let’s see.
Bundling up in our hotel room every day became the norm. You couldn’t just throw on clothes and run out the door, no way, dressing in layers added a good 5 more minutes to your day so you better had planned for it. Such said layers encompassed throwing my white scarf around my neck, zipping up my green winter coat, placing my grey hat from Bellingham, WA on my head, and then that black mask over my face (at which I didn’t mind for once because it kept me warm as heck).
Our need for food and coffee first thing in the morning forced us out into the wintery cold and a mile across the way toward Washington St. and through the doors of our favorite coffee shop “George Howell Coffee”. Walking through those doors provided a thrill of “Woo, we made it,” as the shiver left our bodies where we knew we were safe and warm. We came to notice that every place we walked to in the freezing cold, uncertain of the true whereabouts of really anything; the experience always felt earned. Our time together inside these places was enhanced. Our connection and presence with one another were heightened, even our excitement over the coffee or the food or people around us was higher than normal.
How could this be? Because we had to work damn hard to get to those places. The environment of Boston forced us to work for our luxuries.
This is the difference. The easygoing, warm weather and terrain of Charleston do not force you to work for these things. Everything is at our feet here and the journey to get somewhere is just painless. And this is why I was hesitant in going home to our lives. I have a desire to be pushed hard. I need an environment that pushes me to work harder, to work for my desired luxuries (food, drinks, shopping). It feels like I’ve sort of gone numb to what little pleasures like this bring… because I put little effort in to get them and I’m used to consuming them as part of my lifestyle. Woof.
I wish I could say I’m a super motivated and self-sufficient/productive person, but I’m not. I’m someone who needs accountability and structure in order to perform well and feel purposeful and thrive. And the lifestyle I have created in Charleston is not matching up to that, leaving me feeling purposeless and invalidated, and unproductive. Despite writing a book and doing sales part-time, it just feels like my effort into that doesn’t match up with the gift of what I do have. I want to feel structured and productive and like I’m making a difference here on this earth. I want to feel joyous and giddy over a dinner date or two once in a while, you know?
So how can I channel life in Boston into life at home in Charleston? For those of you who can relate and maybe live in an easier environment than a winter up North, then what are some things we can do to cultivate a day where we do feel productive and purposeful? I don’t have the answers yet, but here are some ideas I’ve been throwing around.
-Fill days with more to do (exercise, grocery shop, clean): work fewer hours which should make those hours more productive. Thanks to my stepsis for this one.
-Refrain from returning to the house in the middle of the day.
-Set an alarm every weekday morning.
-Ask someone to hold you accountable even though that never works.
On a bigger scale, ask yourself. Are you in the right career? Maybe the issue is you’re doing something you don’t enjoy. Ask for perspective if this rings true.
But as for me, it starts with the little things. You don’t have to change your entire life in order to step out of complacency, or maybe you do. But, for me, who is a writer that only works well in the mornings and a few hours at a time, I need these little changes to make me feel validated for the work that I do. Because a life of a writer does not gain validation until the thing is published and in your hands to read. And in order to get there, these switch-ups must be essential. So here I go. If this doesn’t work, I know the challenges of motherhood are right around the corner as a backup. HA!
XOXO,
Kelly Jett.