Love the One You’re With

I hate moving to a new house.

Strategically this means I disappear at 8:30 am on the day of the move, just as the movers arrive, and I reappear later in the day at our new location once everything has been unloaded.  So that you don’t have to guess about the situation that provoked this blog, I’ll tell you –in a month or so, Daveen and I are moving to another house.  Hip hip hooray.

But my goal in life, always, is to be pragmatic.

For that reason, today I’m thinking about all the advantages of the new house, rather than what I will miss about the old house.  For example, the new house has a much larger backyard, and we should be able to actually park our cars in the garage. Also, we won’t live on a street bordering Southern California brush that is easily combustible (an area my insurance company considers a fire risk).

I borrowed the title of this blog from a Stephen Stills song.  It was on his 1970 debut album by the same name.  He called it “a good times song, just a bit of fun,” But I think it also holds an important truth and is very good advice.

Perhaps my dislike of moving involves my selective dislike of change.  But life is always about change.  We choose some of those changes, others are thrust upon us.  As a pragmatist, I know that change is very often a good thing.

This past week I’ve been reading the new Walter Isaacson book about Elon Musk (which is a Musk read).  (Groan received.)  When all of Musk’s activities are added together (including Tesla, which I drive, and SpaceX, which my son-in-law worked for until he burned out on 80-hour work weeks), Musk is undoubtedly the most prolific human agent of change in modern times.  While I wouldn’t want to work for him, or live with him, I’m happy to enjoy the products of his energy and vision.

So my advice to myself is that if certain changes are inevitable in my life, such as the impending move, I should just relax and enjoy it.

Will I enjoy our new house as much as I’ve enjoyed the house I’ve lived in for almost seven years?

Ask me in 2024.

Alan