A love story (sort of) about moving, marriage, and the central nervous system.
They say moving is one of the top three most stressful life events — right up there with death and divorce.
Now, I haven’t died, and I’m still married, so I guess that leaves… moving. And let me tell you, whoever put that statistic together wasn’t exaggerating.
Boxes everywhere. Decisions on everything. Endless to-do lists. And then, just to spice it up — let’s throw in two completely different nervous systems trying to navigate the same chaos.
Me under stress? I move fast.
Like, warp-speed fast.
I start packing, purging, organizing, cleaning, planning, listing… all in one breath. My nervous system kicks into high gear like it’s trying to win an Olympic medal.
My husband under stress?
He slows down.
Like, “Is he moving or is he meditating with his eyes open?” kind of slow.
He becomes methodical. Deliberate. Careful. Thoughtful. And yes, sometimes… painfully slow.
You can probably imagine what happens when someone in turbo mode collides with someone in snail mode.
And yet, what I’ve learned — through many deep breaths, slammed drawers, and unfinished conversations — is this:
Stress magnifies our patterns.
It doesn’t make us new people. It just amplifies who we already are.
So I’ve had to come back to the very things I teach:
Presence.
Compassion.
Self-awareness.
And the grace to say, “I’m overwhelmed right now. Can we talk about this later?”
I’ve had to give myself permission to be human — to not enjoy this part, to feel stretched thin, to not handle it perfectly. I’ve had to stop making myself wrong for being stressed, and instead, just be with what is.
Because the truth is…
There’s nothing wrong.
This is just moving.
And it’s hard.
And it will pass.
And if you’re like me — trying to stay conscious and loving while your nervous system is doing somersaults — just remember this:
The goal isn’t to be perfect.
The goal is to notice.
To breathe.
To communicate before you combust.
And maybe, to laugh (even just a little) at how ridiculous the whole thing feels.
Because the moment you can find humor in the mess…
You’ve already softened the edges of your stress.
And that, my friend, is healing in motion.