Today a co-worker told me a cliche that I had never heard before. She said, after a conversation about changing jobs and moving towns, that “you bloom where you’re planted.” That honestly scared me. As a high school student, I had constantly worried about remaining in my home town and becoming just another face that melted into the generations of families that never left the county. I knew, beyond a doubt, that I never wanted to be that.
Fast forward about eight years (whoa I’m old), and here I am. I am sitting on the deck of my rented townhouse on my new patio furniture and I’m thinking about my life. I’ve got a lovely home with a great husband, I travel most weekends, and I experience life as best as I can. However, I am entirely different than what I pictured in high school. High school me wouldn’t be ashamed, but she would definitely be shocked. I think I would like to explain to her that sometimes you grow happy where you are and with what you’re doing. Sometimes you’re doing what you need to for that moment, but tomorrow might be different.
But, I’m not done. I’m not planted. While I’m still in my community where you can leave your front door open for some sun and the biggest excitement of the county is the fair, I haven’t planted myself. My husband and I still rent and we know that it isn’t rent to own. We aren’t ready for that. If our dream city of Seattle comes a-calling, we want to answer her siren song. We don’t want to be held down.
So, yes… You make the best of where you’re planted. You’re in the here and you’re in the now, but tomorrow you could be transplanted. Be ready for a new container, new soil, and new sun.
Boat Against the Current 