If we are truly grateful, can we want?

It’s on the top of my mind lately, as hubby and I go through the rigors of having our house on the market. It’s a great house, nothing wrong with it … and I truly am grateful that we’ve able to get here.

So why we are selling? If we are really grateful, can we still want something else?

I need to move to the beach. It’s been a dream since forever for me, and hubby is absolutely committed to helping make that dream come true. So we are selling, after just getting here two years ago.

All of this spins up guilt because … well … even after all these years of self-reflection, it appears that guilt is still my go-to place. Guilt that maybe I don’t appreciate what I have; will never be happy; will always be searching for something else; not satisfied.

And wow, writing that out, I can hear the voices from my past saying those exact things. “When I was your age…”  “When I was growing up…” “People in India would eat those carrots…. ”   “Be thankful you have shoes at all…”

The lack! Okay, I get it. Be thankful for what you have. And I truly am! Truly am grateful for what I have, who I’m with, where my life has brought me so far.

And still … I want to live on the beach. Need to get there before it’s “too late,” whatever that looks like.

Breathing in, I see how just writing this post can spin up anxiety and guilt. But I know that the world is FULL of options. And just because we choose something else doesn’t mean we no longer are grateful for what we chose last time. That’s nonsense.

I’m still grateful for the first house I ever owned, a 200-year-old “hobbit house” in rural upstate NY. Even now, seven homes later (some rented, some owned) I have gratitude for the time I spent there. Just as I will for this place, after we connect with the new owner.

What I realize now is eye-opening. I am grateful for each place, for the shelter provided, the experiences, the fun and the challenging times. That remains. And it’s the new experiences I crave, the next iteration of what I’ll learn and who I’ll become. So I can remain grateful — fully and eternally grateful — for each place while graciously letting it go.

Where are my flip flops?