I’m ready to get on the plane. We’ve fully entered the transition zone, my least favorite place to be. It feels like we are neither here or there. We will be moving from bed to bed from now until we land in Auckland. Routines disrupted. Personal space diminished. All of these things knock me off balance. And still I worry about what could go wrong between now and take-off. Covid-19 has taught us all how fast the world can change.
This is one of those moments when life feels full of possibility. I am ready to move to New Zealand and make it my permanent home. I know this feeling will ebb and flow, that there will be moments after we get there when I’ll wonder if we’ve done the right thing. But those moments will happen no matter what we do.
I think of sunny days sitting outside on Oriental Bay drinking a coffee. I think about running up, over, and around the hills surrounding Wellington, of coming to the top of Mount Albert and seeing the South Island thrusting out of the waters across Cook Strait. I know that memory is kind. The hard times we had there have faded but the evidence of them can be found in my journals. It won’t be easy, but few things in life worth doing ever are.
I’m so glad we came here. And I’m so glad we get to go back there.