There it was, despite being 3,000 miles away, and almost ready to buy a perfectly good home nearby, a place literally popped up on my realtors screen while we were about the make the final choice between two homes that had been considered for the past week. Instantly I told her, “that’s the one.”
Was it crazy? No, because I had done my research for the past three months. Working on my budget, narrowing down the neighborhoods and the best qualities of each. I had whittled my process down to two places, both with pluses and minuses. Neither were perfect, both would require letting go of something I had really hoped for. But I knew either would be goo places to begin my new life in California.
Then my little home, showed up. It hadn’t been available the day before, the hour before, it was ready now. My realtor had seen it the previous week, but wasn’t sure if or when it would be become available. Because I had grounded myself for weeks prior getting clear what was essential to me, I knew this was my place. So I made an offer and bought it sight unseen.
Despite the joy and beauty of the moment, a ripple of resistance surfaced. “What are you doing?” “You can’t make a decision like this on a whim!”
This is what expansion can look like—it doesn’t always feel easy. Often, it arrives with uncertainty and a need to stretch beyond what feels familiar or manageable.
Expansion and Resistance Often Travel Together
When we’re presented with something new, especially something deeply aligned with what we’ve longed for, it can be disorienting. Not because it’s wrong—but because it’s unfamiliar. We are expanding beyond what we’ve known.
There’s a part of me that wanted to jump in and say, “Yes!” and another that braced, wondering, Can I really leave everything behind for a place I’ve never seen?
Rather than getting caught in the loop of mental problem-solving, I decided to slow down and shift into a more embodied approach:
- I noticed what the fears were, and then checked them out within the context of having done A LOT of research about the area and the home values.
- I kept discerning, “is this doubt and fear, or excitement and anticipation.” Every fear got checked out (home report, video footage, my realtors report, etc..) and the excitement— well it was shared with others.
- I sat with each concern, breathing, letting each one move through me. But being willing to reevaluate my choice if needed. But there is no way to leap into the unknown without some fear.
- Then I asked myself: what’s normal here? Because it was normal to be nervous and excited to buy a new home, especially one I hadn’t actually walked in yet, I could expand into this moment.
The Balance Between Grounded and Growing
Expansion doesn’t mean you ignore the practical. It’s about finding the middle path—responding to what life offers without rushing ahead or shutting down.
For some, expansion feels like leaping into the unknown without a second thought. For others, it brings a freezing fear that stops movement entirely.
But there’s a space in between—a space where grounded growth happens.
It’s not about pushing away fears or clinging to comfort. It’s about noticing both and choosing from a centered place, and in this case an educated place, to move into a new arena. Every expansion, if consciously chosen, comes with the instinct to pulls back. But if you expect this, then that’s where clarity begins to emerge.
To grow is to leave the familiar behind. Biologically this creates fear of survival, but just because our evolutionary response is to pull back from the unknown, we can use our minds to evaluate and continue to enter into the new opportunity.
This little home has become my sanctuary. And for a period of time, when my son moved to the area, it became his. The ability to sit inside a home and look at the sparkles on the water, despite the small size of the place, has been healing for both of us in different ways. I’m not sure how long it will stay in the family, but I do know one thing, that moment, and the ability to act upon it, made all the difference.
