Why Do We Move?

The recent purchase of a home in Sicily has me thinking about why we move. I like Tulsa. I never thought I’d live in Tulsa, never even gave a second thought to Tulsa before moving there, but now, honestly, I like it. It’s a great little town. And I like my life there. So why did I purchase a home in Italy with the hopes of becoming an expat?

In some ways, it’s complicated. There are lots of reasons I could give you. But fundamentally, it comes down to feeling the pull, the call, the sense that this is the next step, the thing I must do. Even when it means leaving a place I really like, a place where I have friends, a place where I am comfortable, a place that is pretty convenient to seeing the people I love. (Well, flying to Chicago or Idaho or California is a lot easier from Tulsa than it is from Sicily.) And, if there is any philosophy behind it, an Anais Nin quote has motivated me since I was sixteen:

This is a photo of the card I’ve been carrying around since I was 16 years old

Have you ever moved away from family and friends, away from a home that you liked and maybe even loved? If so, why? Why did you move?

A few days after I arrived in Sicily recently, my friend and neighbor in Tulsa, John, texted to say he and his partner Pete had purchased a new house and would be moving before I returned. WHAT???? I would only be gone three weeks!! When? /Why? / How did this happen?? John has lived in the same house for 34 years. He and his partner have talked about purchasing a home in Mexico, where Pete is from and where some of his family still resides. They visit there several times a year. Mexico is the only place they’ve ever mentioned moving to. But now suddenly they have purchased in a suburb north of Tulsa, thirty minutes away, and they’re moving in three weeks???

John’s answers are vague. Is it because your sister lives there? He says no. They just found a house they liked. Were you looking? Not really. Then why? How? I’m still confused. And I’m bummed. I’m really bummed. Mazie and I love having them and their dog, Duke, as neighbors.

Our mutual friend and neighbor, Brenda, is extremely distraught. John has been a good friend to her for decades. Brenda, as far as I know, has always lived in this neighborhood, outside of going to college ninety minutes away. She now lives in her mother’s old home, but when her mother was alive, she lived across the street. Brenda is not moving. Brenda will probably never move. This summer when she was sick with pneumonia for months, John and I both brought her food. It’s a huge help to have friends nearby who have your back, who can help in need. So, it’s no surprise that she is hugely distressed by my purchase of a home in Sicily and by John and Pete’s sudden news.

My in-person social circle has gotten significantly smaller since Covid and I’m okay with that. The only folks I’ve seen consistently are three couples and a friend from my high school years who retired here. One couple has been talking about moving pretty much the entire time I’ve known them. Family and work are two great reasons, in addition to just missing the west coast. These are also the friends who are Mazie’s godparents and they adopted one of her pups, Rupert. When they move, they will leave a huge hole in our lives. Another couple, whom I’ve only really gotten to know this year, announced they’ll be moving next spring. While he can work from anywhere, she just got the job she’s always wanted. In another city. They, too, also have a dog that we love. No, it’s not all about the dogs, but it’s a bonus. My pup’s social life is just as important as my own.

My best friends in Tulsa specifically asked before they bought their home if I was planning on moving. I told them no. And then, a year later, I bought a house in Italy. But to be fair, I didn’t see that happening so quickly and I won’t be moving anytime soon. They’re also recent early-retirees so they’re traveling quite a bit with lots of trips planned.

Still, it’s hard not to feel the loss when people you love move away. To feel left behind. Maybe even betrayed.

I loved my Idaho home (as you know because I say it all the time). Kate and Jeb and Jeff and Karen were my tribe. We all had dogs, we celebrated holidays together. And then, one by one, they left. And the place never felt the same. I have some very dear friends there but they were new relationships by the time I decided to leave. I’m so grateful our friendships have survived, even flourished in the distance and time, but that’s not enough to make me move back.

If I’m honest, I’m the one who is typically leaving. I left my folks at age eighteen and I know it broke my father’s heart. Eventually I returned to Chicago and had eight fun years of hanging out with my sister all the time. BFFs. And then when my marriage ended, I left. I’m not sure I’ve ever thought about this before – about how she felt when I moved away. Again. But now I realize it must have felt pretty shitty.

I left Idaho twice. First for grad school (I took an apartment in Santa Barbara while I still owned my home in Picabo) and then when I moved to Oklahoma. Throughout it all, Tom and I were still close. We are still close. We have, amazingly, always managed the distance. And yet, I’m sure it was hard for him each time I left. It never feels good to be the one left behind.

When I moved to Santa Barbara, my stuffed pup, Coco, joined me on the journey. Photo credit: Jan Peppler

So why do we move?

Because we have to.

Because moving out of our parents’ home is part of growing up. Because a job requires us in a different location. Or a relationship ends. Or we have kids and want better schools and opportunities for them. Sometimes we move to lower our taxes or for more affordable housing. Other times we move to upgrade into a bigger and nicer place. And sometimes we move back into a parent’s home to take care of them when they are elderly or sick.

But when we have a choice, when we can fully make the decision on our own not encumbered by relationships, family needs or obligations, or by job requirements, or even financial restraints, why do we move?

I know why I move. Every time I have moved, not just to a new home but to a new town, I felt compelled, called, pulled, or pushed. Sometimes I didn’t even know where that new place would be, only that it was out there and I needed to find it.

Does anyone remember Pets.com and their mascot? My sister gave me this in 2000 as I began my journey of traveling around the country to interview women over 90. Photo credit: Jan Peppler

Honestly, I have wished over and over again to stay put. To feel grounded in a place. And then I found that place in Picabo. I felt so perfectly content that I no longer even had a desire to travel. Even when I took an apartment in Santa Barbara for grad school, I felt like I was cheating on my home and having an affair with a place, the very sexy American Riviera. But I was committed, I was married to my home and would always come back. Until I realized my home could no longer give me what I needed. To pursue my dreams, I would have to leave, I would have to move. And, I felt, my house understood. We talked about it, we mourned together, and then she sent me on my way. While this may not make sense to you, this is the winding road that brought me to Tulsa.

Next up: Sicily. Not because it’s novel or seems like fun. It will be challenging as heck, just like every time I’ve moved but times two. Heck, times 50. But this has been a seed in me for decades, well before my months of Covid lockdown in 2020. I feel compelled, called, even pushed. Who I am, who I am becoming, who I am meant to be, and what I’m here to accomplish somehow requires this move, just like every other move before this one.

Each move brings me home to myself.

It will be quite some time before I can move to Italy, as it is a complicated process. In the meantime, I will be in Tulsa. And I really like Tulsa. I hope you will come visit, but I understand if you don’t. It’s not as exotic as Italy, but it is closer.