Hello faithful reader. Living in the same place for many years, made me complacent, comfortable, and even jaded. In the space where life and routine got upended, I tended to complain. why is my first reaction wanting to return to the way things were? “Missing the old ways” seems to be a common theme among humans. So much so that I’ve found (at least) one ancient example from thousands of years ago.

“Was it because there weren’t enough graves in Mitsrayim that you brought us out to die in the desert? Why have you done this to us, bringing us out of Mitsrayim?” the children of Yisrael asked.

The Yisraelites had been freed from crushing bondage only to find that freedom required work and responsibility. The Ha’Aretz HaMuvtakhat lay just over the horizon, almost two weeks away. However, it was filled with plentiful food and water, in a beautiful land there for the taking. The recon team of twelve brought back proof of how wonderful the land was — a gargantuan grape cluster which required two men to carry it. Despite this, they seemed unable to grasp the enormous blessing before them.

Instead of embracing their new sovereignty, their fear had them looking back to the familiar, the comfortable hell of their enslavement. In their fear of change, and some pretty giant people, they failed to recognize the wonderful, miraculous opportunity, or the power of the one who was with them. Instead of “burning the ship” they attempted to return. There was no Mitsrayim to return to.

I grew up in northeastern Ohio, with glorious autumnal leaf changes. We endured the deep snows of white biting winters, soggy springs and soft green lawns of summer and twinkling twilights with fireflies. When I first moved to Florida, everything was new, the people, the weather, the culture and the landscape. In my culture shock, I could have bemoaned all that I didn’t have.

Instead of complaining about the lack of color in fall, I enjoyed extended summers. Instead of snow, I enjoyed backyard grilling in December. Travel was never limited in winter. I chose to focus on what was before me: more sunny days than not, beaches, oceans, and palm trees. I let go of the former to enjoy the here and now.

What this means for you

The last three years taught me to appreciate the present. Living in sense of wonder is a choice we make every day. When I first emerged from (the first) lockdown, the world around me had changed. I cherished that first coffee date, and the in-person networking events that followed. These were things that I’d taken for granted until I couldn’t do them.

I’ve heard mothers say they miss their children being of a certain age. I’ve always been grateful for every phase my little one progressed to. Each stage was new and exciting for its own reasons. I don’t want to get stuck in the past because time is the one thing we can’t get back. I want to advance, be present, improve, or do better.

I expect the coming year will bring more changes. Change can be hard. The future requires different skills and abilities and largely, “flex-ability.” I’m grateful for where I’ve come from, and the remnants of my former life, but I’m more excited about what the future holds.

My hope is that by taking off the jade-colored glasses, that we can see our life and surrounding with fresh eyes. What happens if this year, you challenge yourself to look for the wonder in each day? To look around and be curious about your city, the history, or the people? What if you lived in the hopeful expectancy of new adventures just beyond the horizon?

If you could choose one thing to come to pass in the next year, what would it be? I look forward to reading your comments. I’m glad you came by! I look forward to next time!