Almost every Saturday since I've lived in Albuquerque, I go to a local branch of the library. Mostly I order books online and pick them up, so the trip to the library can be quite brief, but the drive from my apartment is lovely. It's along a winding residential street that ends up at the little park pictured above. Adjacent to the park is the library, a public swimming pool, tennis courts and a senior center. And across from the park is a plain little adobe style house that looks just like the rest of the neighborhood surrounding the park. My happy Saturday ritual involves getting a large coffee and an almond croissant, picking up my books, and parking somewhere near the park so I can sip my coffee, flip through the books, and watch soccer teams practicing or big dogs scampering around. And I think, "Ahhhh. This is a really nice place. It would be nice to live around here." And then I go to the supermarket or whatever. But I look forward to my sweet Saturday mornings.
Three months ago, this little house came on the market. I wasn't thinking about buying a house - I was thinking about getting the hell outta Albuquerque, maybe moving to San Diego or the Virgin Islands or Chicago or New York and finding another job. But I had it in the back of my mind that it sure looked cute.
Then a couple of weeks ago my friend Ande said that her mother's friend wanted to sell the house three doors down from Ande's and was I interested? I thought, "Hell yeah, but there's no way I could qualify for a loan - after all, I have no money, and there's a mortgage crisis." Ande and I have planned on spending our golden years near each other: drool buddies with dogs and cats all around. It's a cool property. It's also a total mess, an enormous checklist of (pricey) things to do that would stretch into a good four or five years. But I made a call to a mortgage broker out of curiosity and learned that I could indeed qualify for a loan, but not one that included some money to spend on fixing up a fixer upper. The job I supposedly hated had paved the way to getting a mortgage. Silver lining time.
While contemplating the house near Ande and spending hours making and prioritizing the to-do list of necessary changes, I went as always to the library and suddenly thought, "Huh. What about that cute little adobe place?" A few minutes later, on Realtor.com, I went through every single listing of property for sale that I could qualify for in all of Albuquerque - more than 500 listings - and realized what a bargain the little house was. According to the listing, it had been completely remodeled. Not just cosmetic changes but things like a new roof, windows, floors, electrical, stucco, landscaping, appliances. From what I could tell, the asking price didn't include a big markup for all the labor that went into fixing it up, just the cost of a "before" house plus the materials needed to make it an "after." The pictures of the interior looked surprisingly fresh - crisp and clean. Quite a difference from the place near Ande, and from almost all of the other places I scanned online.
I found an agent and took a look at the house on Friday and just loved it. Not "I NEED it" or "I WANT it" but just a simple, "This is the place." There was no pounding heartbeat or butterflies in the belly. Just a floating, bobbing in the water feeling like I was being supported by the Universe in a loving way. The river of life was flowing and I was right where I was meant to be in the current. Ahhhhhhhhh. Yesterday I took Ande to see it, and she loved it, too, and over lunch we had a conversation about what was best and she agreed with me that this little adobe place was a much better choice than the house down the street from her, so with her blessing I made an offer and it was accepted and I'll be moving in a month into the house.
I feel completely at peace about getting this house. Just a sense of "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh." Relaxed. Like it's a good thing. The whole thought/feeling process around it simply unfolded naturally and comfortably, like a lotus blossom.
It's more than just buying a house, or this house, of course. It's a commitment to staying in Albuquerque, of possibly sticking with my job if I'm not able to find another federal job here in town. There are doors closing, but there's no gulping sense of loss or fear around that. I'm taking a chance, and closing doors, and the sensation is one of complete acceptance.
In the past, buying a house was a roller coaster of emotion - excitement and dread, and always an undertow of "What the hell have I done?" Decisions hastily made, a world of unknowns hiding around every corner.
The sense of calm I'm feeling now I've had just once before, and it wasn't around buying a house. It was in the early stages of my friendship with Ande, almost 20 years ago. We were office friends, definitely more than that, truly sympatico, but our social time was limited to after-work Thai dinners a couple of times a month. Then we both started to feel comfortable in the relationship. And something happened, I don't remember what, but a moment came when I said to myself, "This friendship is going to be forever." Not, "I want this friendship to be forever" or "I need her" but just a simple realization that we were floating together in a sea of tranquility. That sense of bobbing in the water again. And that Ahhhhhhhhhhh feeling came over me. It's like I sense in the deepest part of me that it's right. There is no fear. There's just okayness.
My dream for this house is simply that I enjoy the peace and sweetness of being there. I have no lofty self-improvement agenda like I usually do around big decisions in my life ("Now I'll exercise every day" or "Now I'll get out more and be happy"). No goals. No to-do lists. Just Ahhhhhhh. Can it be that I'm home?
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