Settling In

Two nights ago, I was lying on my back in Central Park, sandwiched between my husband and my daughter, looking up at fireflies dancing in the trees.  The New York Philharmonic Orchestra was flawlessly accompanying saxophonist Branford Marsalis in his debut performance with the world-renowned group.  (Side note-I have had a huge crush on Branford for some time now, ever since he played on Sting's "The Dream of the Blue Turtles" album.  Hearing him play "Jazz Concerto for Alto Saxophone and Orchestra" took my crush to a new level.  Don't worry...Cameron knows.)

Anyway, as I closed my eyes and my mind began to drift with the music, a very pronounced thought made its way in between the notes.  "I am settling in."  This took me by surprise, for reasons I will share in a moment.  But I didn't panic, thinking I was most likely just caught up in the enchantment of sharing a concert in the park with about 30,000 other New Yorkers.

After a beautiful set of selections from Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet and a rousing fireworks display, we began to make our way home.  Abby was sharing her reflections of how the music mirrored Shakespeare's epic story when a little lady stopped us, asking directions for exiting the park.  I surprised myself (and my family) when I quickly-and correctly-told her what street she needed to take.  How did I know that?  And there it came again..."I am settling in."  I knew how to give directions because this city is becoming my home.  

"Well, of course it's becoming your home!" you might be thinking.  "You've lived there for a little over a month now, and that's what happens when you move.  Your new place of residence becomes your home."

But this is not how I have experienced moving in the past.  There's something about the word "settling" that unsettles me.  It seems to denote mediocrity, giving in, even failure at some level.  Like settling for a hamburger when you could have had a juicy steak.  And in the seven moves Cameron and I have made since we said "I do," including three cross-country relocations, my heart has fought long and hard not to settle in, anywhere.

Don't get me wrong-each move brought a sense of adventure and satisfaction in its own way.  Exploring the new apartment, house, neighborhood, city, state...all of that was great fun.  Finding the hidden restaurants that only the locals knew about, making new friends, experiencing different stages of life in new places-all of these adventures were wonderful parts of my life journey.  But up until now, I haven't felt like any place was completely HOME.

So, as we continued down the sidewalk, watching Emma dance across park benches as she sang at the top of her lungs, I came to a conclusion.  It seems rather simple now that I think about it, but in the moment it felt like a great revelation.

I am settling in, but not because I have a different address.  I am feeling like I am home, but not because I live in a different city.  I am settling in because I am finally learning to let go and live comfortably in my own skin.  Something about selling everything and dramatically changing my familiar way of life has liberated me-from feeling like I can control things, from being afraid that "home" will somehow be a let-down, from living in a constant state of looking ahead instead of looking at what is, right now.  And being ok with it.  No, better than ok...being thrilled with it.  

I probably won't be a back-up singer for James Taylor like I once dreamed I would be.  I might not write a famous song or get the degrees I once determined I needed.  But I will live the rest of my days feeling at home, feeling settled.

settling (intransitive verb)-to come to rest; to become fixed, resolved or established.

I think I'm going to like settling in after all.