Having only lived in our little slice of the country outside a teensy town for less than two months, I was totally unprepared for how much this already changed me. My former nanny family lives in affluent suburb and are professionals with three kids. Each kid loves all their activities and they are an on-the-go family. My husband and I just moved from a close-by up and coming suburb.
We have spent the last two months loving our new home in the country but feeling like outsiders and dealing with unexpected adjustments. Living close to Indianapolis, we had our pick of just about anything to eat, every store, and countless parks and activities. I worked full time, and we were always busy. Our new town has one park and six restaurants, including McDonald's and Pizza King. People here are astonished when they learn we left such a blossoming area to live here, and sometimes (like when we are trying to where to eat) we are too. Having two grocery stores and nothing close to a Trader Joe's, there's no exotic items on our home menu (or even white cheddar, which apparently I was ridiculous for requesting at the deli counter). I get antsy at home and I still like to keep busy and talk to people, finding a reason to leave the house or work on a project every day. On top of seeing my nanny kids, I was pumped to be within reasonable driving distance of Starbucks (where I went daily) and have our choice of parks and restaurants, even a book store!
I was craving being in the city again for longer than a quick afternoon, and the hectic schedule of three kids in sports was something I could easily manage and was used to. What I wasn't expecting was the electric current of anxiety, the fast thoughts, the tightness in my chest, the tense muscles. I came home feeling emotionally drained, and it has taken me a bit to figure out why.
After 6 days of traffic, crowds, and noise, I began to feel over stimulated and anxious, I didn't expect to be ready to come back to our land in the middle of corn fields and tiny town. I was ready to give up my daily PSL for coffee on my back porch staring at fields and trade the errands for afternoons writing and staying home. The further we drove from city on the way home, the more I filled with peace.
There are moments since we moved to the country that I feel something that has always been rare to me: clarity. I don't mean simply clear thinking, I mean clear, unmuddled being. It has happened several times: when talking with a new friend, pulling in to our drive way and seeing our home, driving through the fields, walking through town, staring at the farmland from our deck in the evening. These are moments that I mark and savor, because they are completely new to me. As someone diagnosed with Anxiety Disorder, the current of electricity running through my bones, scattered thoughts, tightness in my chest and tense muscles have been part of me for as long as I can remember. Here, it slows, and sometimes stops entirely. I have moments of pure clarity and peace that clear my mind and wash over my whole body. While my anxiety will likely always be with me (and I don't think moving to the country is the answer for everyone), this has been a welcome and unexpected change. Life here is slower, simple, and quiet.
I am so grateful for our time in the city and seeing the kids, and my daughter had a blast. But I know now that is no longer my home, and while small-town country life continues to be a big adjustment, it's what I need.
(photo credit: theodessyonline.com)
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