It was three years ago this week that we decided to move from Western Canada to Orlando, Florida.
I remember getting into a car with my two dogs, Odom and Cooper, and driving five days across North America for no other reason than I did not want to put them on a plane at their age. On that trip, every morning before the drive and every night upon arriving at a new hotel, I would take them for a walk. This was a new routine for all of us, as I was not much of a walker in the Canadian cold, and in those five days, their tails would be wagging in anticipation of that walk. A new routine was formed, and it was something we looked forward to every morning and night.
When my family left Canada, Odom had diabetes and seemed like he was in his last days. Within a couple of weeks of arriving in Florida, he was stumbling and not doing well. We rushed him to the vet, and the eventual prognosis was that the temperature in Florida had actually improved his health, and the change in climate led to an overdosing of insulin. After adjusting the dose, he would experience little bursts of energy, much like a puppy, and that alone made the change feel worthwhile.
In 2024, Odom passed away from cancer at the beginning of the year. In that same year, Cooper passed away from cancer as well in November. Both of their passings were different, but incredibly hard on me. I felt like I lost pieces of my heart, and as I have learned, you never get over the death of something you love, but you are definitely forever changed.
That year, I experienced significant professional success but struggled personally.
It was a year of contrasts: accomplishments in my work life, but also some of the deepest personal challenges I had faced. One thing that was different about me compared to how I felt in the past is that even though there were many days I didn’t want to get out of bed, I still did. I went through the motions until the motions went through me.
It was in that year that I first started to wonder, “Was moving a good idea?”
But then you realize that no matter where you go, and no matter how promising the opportunity seems, challenges are inevitable. When you face those obstacles, it can feel incredibly challenging.
So then you start to take stock of your life and say, “This is painful, but there are so many things that I have now that I didn’t before, and not only could it be worse, there are many days that it couldn’t be much better.”
I look at the promises I have made to myself, and the closer I have gotten to keeping them, the better I feel.
They are things like this:
Be present when I am at work and when I am with family and friends.
Get outside as much as possible.
No matter how hard yesterday was, go again tomorrow.
Thinking like that hasn’t necessarily made me happier, but it has made me feel more purposeful.
As it often happens, I had no idea where I was going when I started writing this, other than wanting to evaluate the last three years and the decision to move. It has been a bit of a roller coaster, which isn’t surprising when you live so close to Disney World.
Here are my biggest lessons:
Surround yourself with people who make you better and whom you know you can count on.
Do your best to treat every person doing a job as the most important person in an organization, and they will go out of their way to do the same.
The more grateful I become for what I have, the more that seems to come into my life.
And this would be my advice to anyone making a significant move in their life, whether it is to another city, job, or situation: A change of scenery doesn’t mean you will change your routine, but it gives you a blank slate to become the version of yourself you always wanted to be.
My dogs lived long enough to ensure that when I moved, I was willing to try something new that I hadn’t done before. Although it hasn’t always made things easy, it has pushed me to be better.
A walk every day and every night with your best friends can put things into perspective, as long as you are willing to look.
Ultimately, it is not the place that defines us, but rather how willing we are to grow when we arrive.
