What's your first move?

I've been totally consumed with my upcoming move- not so much the logistics of all I have to do to get ready to drive away like a turtle with everything I own on my back, but more with the emotional pieces of it all. I'm spending as much time with friends and family as possible, driving all over creation to meet up with/attend/stop in on whoever, and getting used to oddities like Facebook and Blogspot in an attempt to process, fill people in, and stay in touch like, forever. Lets just say I'm sticking to this moment, whatever it is, and having a good solid time being equally sad, elated, nostalgic and appreciative all at once. I guess I'm falling in love with everyone and everything around me right now, a weird strategy given that I'm gearing up to leave.

I had a moment with Lenny yesterday on our run- we reached his favorite spot on his favorite trail and he stopped to take in the view, as always. He wrapped his arm around me and said, "last view for us" (or something along those lines). I wanted to fall into his arms and sob at that moment, but something stopped me. What brought my potential emotional catastrophe to a screeching halt was my firm firm belief that if you love something and someone so much, there is no real "last" with them. I know Anna keeps thinking about our "last tea" together a the coffee shop some night soon, and I want to fall into her arms and cry every time she mentions it. And then I remember that when I come back home this fall to visit, I'll be sleeping on her couch and having tea with her every day and evening for a week straight, something we've never been lucky enough to do.

It has dawned on me these last few weeks that moving away from my family and friends may provide me with an opportunity to get to know them all better than I ever have before. Distance forces us to engage in ways we don't have to when we're all in close proximity- it's way too easy not to get deep into each others lives when we live close. I see Michaela on Sunday evening in passing at Anna's and I think I've "spent time" with her, when really all I've done is see her face, but I still know nothing new. We may think we understand and know each other, but in all the years I've lived 15 minutes from Anna, I've only seen her wake up in her home once. I don't know what she's like first thing in the morning. Does she have messy hair? Who wakes up first- her or the kids? I don't know what Maya and Bryn are like either- what do they eat for breakfast? I can't wait to find out all of this stuff when I finally get to spend some time with them once I move away. We'll be closer than ever because there are no more short cuts, and I love them all too much. The only 'last' there will be is: "Well that's the "last" time I spend no more than 15 minutes with so-and-so...". That's one "last" we can be psyched about.

Anyhow, it dawned on me that I haven't spent a single minute thinking about the following: what the heck do I do when I get there? What do I do when I wake up that first morning? Hey Sarah, what's your first move? Gulp...

Funny thing- The answer came to me instantaneously (thank God!). It's the thing, the one thing I've always done when I move somewhere new and am faced with my first moments, looking around me staring at acres of space in the unfamiliar, paralyzed by options and people I've never known before- Moving to Oregon, Ecuador, Marin, alone into the Cottage. It's the one thing that provides me immediate comfort- a refuge, a sense of belonging, insight into a new world. We forget about it as an adult (but the second we have kids it becomes an integral part of our lives again). It's the one thing I do the moment I arrive somewhere I plan on staying: go to the library and get a library card.

That's my first move~ Whew.