Feeling restless.

I started this blog July 31, 2008.

The name, Gathering Dust, came from a beautiful David Gray song that has been one of the themes of my life for a decade. For my twenties.

In less than two weeks, I turn thiry. And suddenly, I'm not okay with any theme of mine including the lyrics, "my soul is hollow as the sorrowful moon".

Beyond that, I've kind of failed at this thing. This is my second post this year. And it's to say that I'm jumping ship.

My first post was titled "feeling restless". I like the symmetry of my final post having the same name. I'm not sure that I'll ever NOT be restless, but I'm starting to feel like I want to be more settled.

In some ways, I feel like I've found a home here in Nashville, and I'm appreciating the slower pace down here. I've spent a lot of time recently just laying out in the sun, next to the water, letting myself just....be. And it's a beautiful thing.

My new blog is here - http://beautyofnothing.wordpress.com/ - It's empty right now, but that'll change soon. In the meantime, update your bookmarks.

I recently read Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, and there was a phrase that really appealed to me - "Il bel far niente" - "The beauty of doing nothing". This is something I'm learning how to appreciate lately and something I will hopefully continue to enjoy, now that I've let myself slow down and relax.

So, goodbye to feeling like I'm like gathering dust, like I'm on a mission alone. And welcome to feeling like the world is full of beautiful moments, often in unexpected times.

it's a long trip alone...

I don't want any more ties here. It's already going to be hard enough to leave. I'm already wondering who of my friends will continue to be a part of my life when I'm 600 miles away. There are some people who I have complete faith in, who I know will come visit me, who I'll make sure I see when I come back up here. There are people I'll keep in touch with through email and Facebook and text. But there are people who after I move will make an effort for a while, but a year from now, will only remember me as the loud, weird, clumsy girl who had way too much crap at her desk and loved to bake. And I know that's just what happens...people change, and grow up, and move away and move on. And the people who are important will stay important. And I'll meet new people and start new friendships and maybe, just maybe, find someone to love.

But that doesn't mean that it's not hurting me to think about. I'm too emotional for my own good, especially lately. One of my coworkers has joked that she's going to make me cry as much as possible before I leave.

It's not hard to do. Lately, it's a song or a quote or a TV show or a memory and all of a sudden I'm just a mess. I'm absolutely terrified that I'll move and cling so hard to the people I love here that I'll never meet anyone down in Nashville to start taking their places.


The thought of anything making this even more difficult just kills to think about.

And so I find myself, with two and a half months left to go, pulling away. Choosing nights at home over spending time with the people I care about. Separating myself, distancing myself....trying to make it easier.

Except now I'm living in this weird transition period of enforced loneliness. And I hate it. It's not the kind of person I am. I'm social. I'm outgoing. I want to surround myself with all these amazing people I know. But I don't want to deal with losing all of them at once. It just feels like it should be easier this way.

But....I'm lonely. Incredibly lonely. And while I sit here, watching The Office and crying to myself, trying to relax with a glass or two of wine, I think....it's going to be so much harder once I move, and when I'm lonely, I'll actually be alone.

Maybe I'm just having one of those nights where the world feels huge and I feel small....and maybe things will seem a bit different in the light of day. But right now, tonight? I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to do this.

I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name

I'm making plans. Lots and lots of plans.

Career-changing plans. Pick-up-my-life-and-move-600-miles-away plans. Life-changing plans. Terrifying, exhilarating plans.

I've lived my whole life in the Detroit area. It's what I know. It's comfortable. I have family here. God knows I have friends here. My *history* is here.

So why am I skipping out on everything, and moving to Nashville?

Of course, a big part of it is my parents. And my sister. And my grandpa. They live in Tennessee, a little more than an hour east of Nashville. Being so far away from them now is awful. I hate that I don't get to see them more than a few times a year.

Part of it is my job. I like my job. And I'm good at it. But this isn't what I thought I would be doing for the rest of my life. Even when I went back to school with the intent of advancing in the company, I didn't know if I was doing it because I loved my job, or if I loved the company. As much as I enjoy the place I work and the people I work with, I can't see myself staying happy here. It feels like settling for something I never thought I'd do for too long, when there are a million other things I'd rather take a chance at.

And then there's the part of me that just wants the adventure...I've always saw myself moving somewhere else, and I'm at the point in my life where if I don't do it now, I won't do it ever. Better to pack up my life and start it fresh while I'm young, and single, and have nothing tying me down to Michigan.

I'm incredibly excited for this new chapter in my life to start. I can't wait to find new places, meet new people, build a new life from scratch.

But damn if I'm not terrified.

What if I get there and hate it? What if I find a job and can't stand it? What if the new friends I make can't compare to the ones I have now? What if the people I have in my life, the people I love dearly, forget about me when I'm 9 hours away?

What if I fail?

I could make myself crazy with the hundreds of "What ifs?" going through my head.

But I would make myself crazier if I didn't allow myself to take this chance.

There's something magical about a second chance. Of starting over where no one knows me...no one knows my history, my mistakes, my regrets. No one knows the things I've done to hurt people, or the people who have torn me to shreds. It's a chance to become someone completely different...or to improve on the person I already am.

And for all the worries, all the fear...there's so much more hope. And promise.

Not only will I be someone with no history, but all the people I meet? They'll be strangers - not people I've grown up with, not people I've worked with, not people who I have seen through all sorts of phases and pieces of their lives.

When I walk into a room, I won't be the girl who runs into walls all the time and trips over nothing (although god knows they'll see that in time). I won't be the girl who makes bad choice after bad choice. I won't be the girl who is outgoing and happy all the time. I won't have to be what people expect of me anymore, because no one will expect anything.

There's something freeing about a second chance.

I'll miss the people who really know me...The people who I trust, the people who I would call crying at 3am, the people who I could sit and watch movies and drink wine and laugh for hours with. I'll miss the people who know what I'm thinking just by the look in my eyes, the way my mouth twitches, the way my eyebrow raises slightly.

I'll miss getting in my car and driving to a friend's house without having to think about where I'm going. I'll miss the bars where they know my name. I'll miss the restaurant where I don't even have to say my order out loud.

I'll miss being able to drive by my grandparents' old houses, remembering where I came from. I'll miss the late night drives up and down roads I've been down so many times before. I'll miss the section of road I drive down that all at once calms me, and frees me, and gives me peace.

There's something heartbreaking about a second chance.

There's a lot of reasons to stay, but just as many to leave. And I think I owe it to myself to just let myself leap.

It's bittersweet, to be sure, but it's what I have to do. And while I will miss what I'm leaving, I look forward to all the possibilities I'll be gaining.

I'm terrified. I'm exhilarated. I'm nervous. I'm contemplative.

But the one thing I'm not is settling.

And that's all the encouragement I need to know that this is the right choice.