The time came for us to move, and here we are, plunked down in a new place. On Monday, I attended the capstone project presentations of those who have finished the Masters program I am just beginning. One man had traveled extensively and taught in so many places across the country and the world. He was preparing to leave for Mexico. I thought - how does he do it? It's so hard to change lives, to reestablish everything. What about the people he leaves behind? I need roots. I need to be familiar with the land.

But that is not to say I'm not happy. Every day there is some new discovery - a million small delights. The parks are beautiful, the people are friendly, the university is amazing, and I feel so lucky. It is exhilarating.

The hardest part has been changing churches, and I knew this would be so. Months before we left, I would become choked and teary eyed with the thought of leaving. The church is my spiritual home and I have leaned so heavily there this past year. I've found my best self at the church. It is so painful to move on. The first few weekends, I absolutely had to force myself to attend the Masses. I came home and said maybe I couldn't be a Catholic. But I think I've made it over the hump. The church is very big (there are I believe three Dominican priests and two monks), and Catholics are such a standoffish bunch (I used to think I liked that) that it's hard to edge in. But I'm recommitted, and I did not stand in front of the church and profess my Faith only to give up in the difficult moments. I've probably committed to more church activities than was reasonable. But I have a theory - when you lose heart, work even harder. We are responsible for our lives.

Still, there is a wistfulness that lingers.

But this is my new life. I'm thrilled to be here, and I know I have so much work to do. The future will unfold itself to me, in time. And I will find my place.