Every morning I wake up with the same thought, “How are we going to achieve our dream of living in Oregon?” Every evening I feel the frustration of not being any closer to the goal than I was that morning.
I wonder: If someone told us we have to be living in Oregon within 60 days or we’d be killed, how would we do it? Could we scramble to rent our house (selling is out of the question thanks to the tanking real estate market shortly after we purchased)? Could we both find some sort of job, any kind of job, to make ends meet? Could we find our little dream spot up there, where we could raise a cow or two, a pig, (appropriately named Dinner and Breakfast, respectively) some chickens, and grow our own veggies? Would it all be possible?
I read a quote in a book that said, “Once you make the decision to go, it’s really not hard at all.” Those words resonate in my mind every day. We haven’t made the decision. We talk about how nice it would be to live where the pace of life is a little slower, where we could hunt and fish, have a huge garden where the vegetables didn’t get scalded by the sun. But we haven’t said, “Yes, we’re going, no matter what it takes.” I think once we do that…
So each day I try to set aside the fear…the fear of change, the fear of not knowing where we’ll find the money, the fear of getting up there and thinking , “Oops, Tucson looks pretty darn good.” I try to remember that if we are meant to be there, it will unfold when the time is right.