The Mirror, The Compass

Under the light of the moon, we saw the envelope next to the front door. A key was inside. We unlocked the door and walked in.

There was a feeling of having been here before. And of it being fully new.

Our dog slowly walked the inside perimeter of the great room with no furniture. For her, the place was fully new. 

Bob and I had been here three months earlier. It was house number seven of eight we visited on a cursory day of home visits with a Santa Fe realtor to help us answer the question “what does a house in Santa Fe look like?”

I bounced around the interior experimenting with light switches. Bob returned to the car to bring in some essentials—dog food, bedsheets, the cooler, the case of wine. We opened one of the bottles—a Gamble Family Home.

Glass in hand, we explored each room. Our voices echoed off the walls. We discovered things we didn’t recall noticing before—the built-ins in the guest rooms, a stone herb garden off the kitchen, the rotisserie on the outdoor grill.

We stepped out onto the long outdoor deck—or portal, as they say in New Mexico. It was our first time seeing the nighttime view that would end each day going forward. We pointed to the lights we assumed must be Los Alamos. We spotted what we believed to be the Santa Fe Opera sitting in the darkness of a pandemic.

We picked up our dog and sat her next to us. We toasted each other. 

This was home.

“I thought you were water people.”

We had spent the last two decades living in San Francisco near the ocean. Seven years earlier, we bought a boat. It became our sanctuary and—apparently to our friends and family—part of our identity.

Moving to New Mexico didn’t feel like trading water for the mountains. It was adding a new experience to what I hope is a long and lively life.

Maybe it’s the Gen X in me. Maybe it’s my Enneagram Type 7 Enthusiast dominant personality style.

But I have never seen myself as one “type” of person.

• I have always imagined enjoying several careers—not being defined by one job descriptor.
• I have never been a card-carrying member of any political party.
• I’m not an academic, corporate exec, entrepreneur, philantropist or artist. But I am a curious learner who applies rigor and creativity to all she invests in.

One of my investments is physical place

Think of the simple question “where are you from?” You can answer two different ways.

I was born in Wisconsin. But I answer that I am from Santa Fe.

The first answer is factual, but a decision I didn’t make; the second is 100% my own.

Where we live doesn’t define us. But it influences us. 

We choose a place because it feels like an expression of who we are. It also expresses who we’re becoming. That’s the paradox:

• We seek out places that feel like us—where we feel a sense of belonging, where our ideas are understood
• We also choose places that stretch us—environments that challenge old assumptions and force us to grow

Where we live can be a mirror of who we’ve been as well as a compass pointing to who we are becoming.

I think back to that glass of wine on the portal five years ago and remember my fear—what if we chose a place that’s not us?

It was COVID, so not only was it an abnormal period for which to judge anything, but the traditional “normal” might completely change in the future.

Though I deemed it low probability, I carried a fear of having moved to a tourist town of mostly part-time residents, filled with retirees and people disconnected from all that is happening globally. Bob and I agreed that should our fear be realized, we’d move somewhere else—not convenient, but sometimes great life lessons aren’t.

In our first year in Santa Fe, the curious-minded community that built with ease around us blew my expectations. 

Five years in, this is us. This is where we belong. 

What I didn’t consider is how Santa Fe might stretch us.

I’ve been thinking about this idea. Santa Fe has stretched me in three main ways:

A Deepened Sense of History. I travel the globe to learn what I should have been taught in school about world history. Living on the East and West Coasts—and now Santa Fe—has done the same for my understanding of U.S. history. Did I learn about the sophistication of earlier Puebloan cultures or the 1690 Pueblo Revolt while in school? Not that I recall. How did I not know that Santa Fe is the oldest capital city in the U.S.? Or that Los Alamos is not a WWII relic but a thriving hub of scientific development? It’s embarrassing to admit. New Mexico is so rich in culture that our lives are an ongoing class in the History of the U.S. Southwest.

A Refined Definition of Aging. While Santa Fe seems more age-diversified post-COVID, my circle of friends skews older. That said, they are more fascinating than most of my mid-50s peers who live elsewhere. It’s rare that people describe themselves as retired. They’ve become an artist, a wildlife rescuer, and fluent in Spanish. They’ve launched an environmental company, obtained their PhD, or started a literary festival. It’s no coincidence that the first American midlife wisdom school—Modern Elder Academy (MEA)—chose Santa Fe as its base around the same time we did. While my friends may be older, they don’t seem older. I’m reminded of this each time I try to keep up on the hiking trails.

A Reconnection to Nature. Watching the sunset used to be something we cherished on vacation. Now it’s part of our daily routine. So are the animals and birds outside our window. And the plants and piñons that I care for. We measure our snow melt and capture our rainwater—because in the high desert, it matters. Having four distinct seasons reminds you to appreciate the here-and-now. Our connection to nature slows us. And our slower pace deepens our connection to ourselves and others. 

We’re happy we took that Left at Albuquerque five years ago. 

This is us. This is home.

So what about you?

Are you living in a place that reflects who you are today? Or who you want to become?

It’s a question worth exploring. Hopefully your answer is both.

Where we live doesn’t define us. But it does shape us.

Transformations begin when we choose to immerse in a place that leads us to a better version of ourselves—a mirror of who we are, a compass to who we are becoming.

Our choice of place reflects our values. Being clear on our values, strengths and story are fundamental to leading an impactful life. Need help defining yours? This is my expertise as a Success Coach. And if you planning to visit Santa Fe, message me. Here’s my Santa Fe Travel Guide.