There is a popular piece of advice often tossed around in self-help circles: “If you don’t like where you are, move. You’re not a tree.” It’s punchy, it’s Instagrammable, and full disclosure… it’s a quote from me. If we’re being honest, it’s also a bit of a half-truth that ignores the reality of the baggage we carry with us. As someone who has moved fifteen times in my adult life (a number that frankly makes my lower back ache just thinking about it), I have lived at the intersection of that “tree” logic and the cold, hard reality of the internal foundation. I’ve moved for the “big” reasons: failed relationships, bad neighborhoods, and those seismic life shifts that leave you standing in a pile of empty U-Haul boxes wondering who you actually are without your familiar four walls. Moving, in its rawest form, is a case study in what remains when the walls change.
For years, I believed that mobility was my primary superpower. I thought that by simply outrunning the “wrong” environment, I was solving the problem of my own discontent. When we view moving as a solution, we believe the external environment is the primary cause of our misery… the lie that if we just lived in a better zip code or a different city, we would finally feel settled. But eventually, the act of packing boxes becomes a symptom of the search. It means the physical labor of moving has become a way to externalize an internal longing. You aren’t just moving to a new house; you are searching for a version of yourself that feels “at home.” If you arrive at the new location and that feeling of “wrongness” resurfaces after the moving high wears off, the move wasn’t the cure. It was just another step in the search for an anchor that doesn’t exist on a map.
The Sacramento Experiment: Distance as a Filter
The real shift in my internal governance didn’t happen during a move toward a new dream, but during a move away from the noise. When I moved to Sacramento, two hours away from the gravity of my usual social circles, I inadvertently built a proving ground for my own life. I had to sit in the quiet, uncomfortable space of my own company. By shifting the definition of “home” from a zip code to an internal state, I was building a “Mountain” within myself so the “Wind” of a breakup, or other life change, couldn’t topple me. It turns out that when you stop being the Family Swiss Army Knife, the one expected to unfold and fix every crisis just because you have the “flexibility”, you actually have the voltage to power your own growth. I’m bringing you along for the ride here because I want you to understand that it is absolutely okay to move if you’re unhappy, but you have to be honest about the inventory you’re carrying with you.
We all face “hurricane-level winds”: forced moves, sudden losses, or life transitions that uproot us with or without our consent. In the trenches of my own experience, I’ve found that these forced shifts are actually massive growth opportunities. They strip away the “staged” version of our lives and show us what our internal floorplan actually looks like. Many people stay in toxic soil because they are afraid of the guilt of leaving. As my therapist says, and I now firmly agree: guilt is a throw-away emotion. It’s a misplaced weight that we carry only because we were told it was the price of admission. By transitioning from being a local crutch to a woman who is a beacon for her own truth, you give yourself a blueprint for a “Great Migration” toward joy. You aren’t just moving for yourself; you’re expanding the map of what is possible for those watching you, like my niece. You’re showing them that “Home” is a state of ownership you carry, so you never feel trapped by a social script.
Alignment and the Portable Sanctuary
Once you realize that home is a portable sanctuary, the way you set up your physical space changes from “staged” to “functional.” You stop decorating for the imaginary guests or the societal “shoulds” and start building a space that actually supports your nervous system. For me, that meant a hard pivot into non-negotiables: no TV, coffee in the quiet before the world wakes up, and a dedicated office that functions as my headquarters. If the soul isn’t practically supported by its environment, it isn’t aligned. Even a mountain needs the right climate to stop being weathered by the wind. Lately, my own natal chart has opened my eyes to the push-pull I feel, the need for deep stability and the desperate urge to wander. I’m navigating this by building a home base here while traveling often, until a permanent move to the “Slow Life” frequency of Spain or Italy can happen. (Yes, family, the move will happen eventually. Sorry, not sorry.)
Staying “stuck” just to appease the expectations of others is a form of spiritual stagnation. Ownership means deciding that you are the architect of your own peace, even if that looks unconventional to everyone else. Sibling grief has a way of stripping away the illusion that you have forever to get it right. It kills the “someday” mindset. You always think you have time for more, and then that day has come and gone. I’m no longer looking for an escape; I’m looking for an alignment. This means I’m making the practical moves now, auditing the finances and researching residency paperwork, to ensure my “someday” happens much sooner than retirement.
However, it is vital to remember that staying here in the interim doesn’t mean you’ve fallen into the “someday trap.” There is a world of difference between stalling and the Construction Phase. If you are taking intentional action while still showing up fully in your present life, enjoying the friends and the sports and the coffee you have right now, you aren’t stuck. You’re laying the bricks. You don’t have to wait for a plane ticket to start living by your own rules.
The Sovereign Act: The Coin Flip Trick
If you’re reading this and feeling “stuck,” whether it’s in a house, a role, or a life that doesn’t fit, I want you to truly sit with yourself and figure out what you want. Not what people want for you. This is the heavy lifting of building an internal home. If you’re paralyzed by a choice, use the “Coin Flip” trick. It’s a tool I’ve used for years, and it works because of the psychology, not the luck.
Decide which choice is heads and which is tails. Flip the coin. While it’s in the air, in that split second of uncertainty, your brain will suddenly realize which side it’s rooting for. You’ll find yourself hoping it lands on “heads” or “tails.” That hope is your truth. It’s the bypass that gets around your ego and your fear. Ignore the coin; follow the feeling. You aren’t a tree, but you also aren’t meant to be tumbleweed. Stop running and start carrying your sanctuary with you. Build the home within yourself first. Once that foundation is solid, it doesn’t matter where you pack your bags… you’re already home.
