For the last month, people have kept asking the same question:

“Are you guys all packed up and ready to move?”

No. Not remotely.

We move at the end of June.

Which means, in my mind, we do not yet need to live inside a cardboard-box hellscape while our three kids turn packing tape into a weapon.

Will the move suck at times?

Certainly.

We moved around a lot in our 20s. But I’ve never moved with three young kids before.

Sounds rough. Sounds like I’ll forget a thing or two.

But I’m not stressed about it.

I have zero expectation it’ll be easy and haven’t perfectly planned every detail.

I just trust us to handle it when it needs handling.

I’m willing to let the move be hard when it is actually hard.

I’m not willing to make it hard every day for the month leading into it.

I think a lot of us confuse anxiety with responsibility.

As though worrying about the difficult thing in advance proves we are taking it seriously.

We act like the person with sixteen tabs open, three color-coded lists, and a constant low-grade panic is somehow more committed than the person who simply trusts themselves to meet the moment when it arrives.

If planning makes you feel lighter, plan your heart out.

I’m not anti-spreadsheet. I’m anti-suffering in advance just to prove I care.

The same thing happened in my business this year.

I moved fully into private 1:1 coaching without a waitlist waiting to validate the decision.

There wasn’t a giant master plan, a huge launch. No certainty at all really.

Just one decision that felt truer than the rest, backed by a year of paying attention to where my best work actually was.

Then another. Then another.

Yesterday, the one private spot I had available for May filled.

That doesn’t mean every decision made with conviction instantly works out.

It means I didn’t need the result in advance in order to start behaving like I owned the decision.

Conviction is not knowing nothing will go wrong. It is trusting yourself when something does.

In about 30 days, we will pack up our house, load three kids into whatever chaos the day requires, cross a state border, and start a new chapter in a new state.

There will be boxes.

There will be missing things.

Someone will almost certainly melt down.

And we will handle it.

Not because it is easy.

Because we are capable of handling hard things when they arrive.

So, no. I am not packed yet.

I’ll let moving suck when it actually sucks.

I have a life to live until then.

-C