Looking back before we look ahead

When I got divorced many years ago, I took the house and gave up the cabin. I am a firm believer in kids experiencing the outdoors, and grew up in a camping family. So, I bought an 8-foot Coleman pop-up and we camped at many state parks throughout the years, and even did two cross-country treks.

Fast forward twenty years or so, and I was getting very weary of that camper. So I looked around and found the cutest, most efficient camper ever! I was in love. It was a lot bigger than the 8-footer, which meant I couldn’t push it in and out of the garage by myself or easily hook it up (until the new SUV with backup cameras), so I always needed help.

That camper took us to a few more state parks over the years. So, when my son begrudgingly hauled it for me and my daughter announced she is no longer a camper, I made the difficult decision to sell my darling camper. It was a tough one to make, but the issues with owning and maintaining it made it a good decision.

There have been a couple hiccups to selling it, but it will likely happen soon. What finally convinced me to sell was the prospect of what ELSE we can do, instead of camper camping. The private campground we stayed at this summer has lovely cabins, right on Lake Superior. In fact, resorts all over the state have cabins! Who knew!?

But here’s the thing - I’m still looking back at what the weekends were like at campgrounds with the camper, and having a lot of trouble looking ahead to see what will likely be even better weekends with a roof and bathroom. No worrying ahead of the trip about things that can go wrong, no stress on the interstate, no more multiple attempts at backing in at a good angle.

I share this story as an analogy for how we move through changes.

There comes a point when we spend less time looking back - at a job, a career, a relationship, a home - and more time focused on what good is to come. But it sometimes takes a while to get there. We reminisce about the team lunches and worry about how we’ll get along with the new team. We miss the back yard at the old house, not yet sure what’s in the new garden. We wonder who we’ll talk to when we don’t see our co-workers every day.

Until we are able to turn our attention to what could be, and away from what was, we’ll experience some conflict and hesitancy, and even some sadness. That’s okay - as long as it doesn’t prevent us from moving forward. We can acknowledge how great this or that was while anticipating what is to come in our new adventure.

But it can take time. And that is okay. Moving fast and jumping far is laudable. As is listening to your head and heart for the right time to come along. Perhaps that is what giving yourself grace is all about. The feelings are real but they should not stop change.

I’ll miss that camper when it’s gone, but it won’t prevent me from selling it and I’m using the space it creates (both in my head and in my garage) to enjoy researching and booking the other ways our family can vacation together.