On leaning into that whole “change is inevitable” bit…

Rarely have major life changes lined up so neatly with a calendar year. Not quite a year ago, I jumped in the car with a suitcase, kissed the kiddos and Kel goodbye (although they’d be coming behind me the next day), and drove up the mountain to Cullowhee. I checked into the Bird Alumni House, which became our home for the next three weeks, and reported to HFR for my first day of work at Western. Later that week, we enrolled the kiddos in their new school, and Kel officially began her full-time work for her own company.

By the time we closed on our house a few weeks later, it had already snowed–twice. And by the time our movers arrived with all our household possessions, it had threatened to snow a third time. (The closing was a round robin of delays, COVID, and weather; the first week in the house, the kids slept on air mattresses, and we ate off a card table.)

I traveled a fair amount this year–eight trips for work, several others for personal matters. In March, we lost our dear Aunt Jean, and the N.C. contingency of the Hogan family trekked through a winter storm to make the funeral. In April, I took Julia on her first “on a plane” trip to St. Petersburg for a weekend. We all made it to Cherry Grove for our family beach week in June, and this fall, I flew back up to NJ for a football weekend with family, including Jason and the Knights Brigade.

We made plenty of trips back to Statesville. So many I cannot count them all.

After our first contract on our house on Heritage Circle fell through just before Christmas 2021, we decided to make life a little easier for ourselves and kept it off the market until we had packed everything and moved out. Fortunately, the real estate market stayed hot through January, and by the time we relisted, it only took a couple of weeks for us to have multiple offers. We were officially finished with owning two homes by the end of March.

All of us managed to catch COVID at one time or another this year. I finally took my turn this fall; Kel came down late summer. At this point, the entire experience was mostly one day of feeling lousy followed by five days of boredom waiting out the isolation period.

The year was full, indeed, and as we unpacked our life and reassembled it in the mountains, my annual tradition of typing our a list of New Years resolutions was delayed all the way till Lent. This was the fourth time I’d pecked out my goals for the year, and in keeping with tradition, I’m reporting back here at the end of the year on how I did.

  • Change my mind about something. I took this on as a challenge mostly believe that when we become dead-set in our ways, we calcify and ignore opportunities to grow. And candidly, I underestimated the task at hand. Even though I can share that I did, indeed, change my mind about a few things, they were mostly inconsequential things related to work, not personal positions. I do think I tempered some of my beliefs, though.
  • Practice hospitality. We are fortunate to have a small, one-bedroom apartment connected to our detached garage–it was one of the reasons we wanted to buy this house–and we have eagerly welcomed guests throughout the year, including all of our parents (multiple times), my cousin Shannon and her son, friends from Statesville, and even a friend Kel met through her coaching work. We love sharing our place, and it’s fun to entertain. I’ve enjoyed the task of always having it ready for the next guest, and hopefully we’ll welcome more in the year ahead.
  • Make friends. This is a tall order for a grown-up, but I knew it would be important for us to make new social connections in our new town. Kel was better at this than I was–but by the end of the year, somehow, we’ve been able to make a handful of new friends here in Sylva. I realize now how much I took our friends in Statesville for granted–decades in one place provided a full slate of people we knew–and I’ve learned a bit about what it takes to do the work of starting friendship.
  • Regular self-care. Sometime toward the end of spring, Kelly and I began making regular walks up Locust Creek in the afternoons or evenings. Our summer walks were the best. Cool mountain air, the regal light of sunset, and plenty of time to talk and walk. It became a tradition of sorts that we carried more or less uninterrupted until the clocks rolled back in November and we lost our evening daylight. Every walk, though, we have wonderful conversation and uninterrupted time together. I cherish each one.
  • Explore the mountains. Our family made several hikes this year, including Whiteside Mountain, Black Balsam Knob, Waterrock Knob, and hiking down to High Falls on a water release day, but the highlight of them all was our trek out to Black Rock, where we snapped the photo above for our Christmas card back in October. It was a challenging hike for everyone, but it had about the best payoff view we’ve experienced. The real thrill: we can see the air above our house from Black Rock. Knowing this adventure is only miles from our back yard makes it even cooler to live here.
  • Sow encouragement. I’ve let this one go a bit. It’s so easy to give encouragement–it costs nothing, and it fills the recipient up. Even better, giving encouragement makes me feel better, too. I try to do this when I can at work, but it’s something I can do more of with my family. I want to keep it on for next year’s list.
  • Feed the birds. This has become a favorite, and it’s something I want to keep on as well for 2023. I started off doing very well, and I was thrilled to see a few new birds showing up at the feeder. Toward the end of summer, though, our neighbors across the street noticed a bear and her cub in their yard, and ever since then I’ve been weary of putting out a lot of birdseed. We haven’t had a sighting since, and I think I’m mostly ready to get back to having a crowd in the back yard.

Happy New Year, dear readers. If anything, I learned this year that change will do you good. When I pounded out my list in March, Russia was invading Ukraine and the global economy was taking a nose dive. And even though much anguish and suffering has happened since, the world remains full of goodness. I’ll take a cup of kindness tonight as we celebrate Thomas’s 10th birthday with my Mom. Cheers to more goodness ahead.