Test of patience

So what would you do if after you resigned from your job, and are putting your house up for sale (eh, at least going through the motions in this economy) and basically did that behemouth undertaking to turn your lifecourse in a new direction, and had just finalized all necessary plans and plane reservations to get there when you're supposed to report on August 8th...and then have someone in the business office say, "well, the red tape that is involved in a background check could last as long as the end of September, so you might have to wait that long to be able to move out here/get paid/get health insurance/register your kids in the school."

Seriously, what would you do?  I cried.  For just a few minutes, and then I talked it out with a friend (shout out, GM, thanks for letting me blubber).
See, if I were 20 and not 40, and single and not with 3 little, bright eyed dependents, I'd go to Guatemala or Mexico.  At least, that's what I have done in the past during these "spells" of flux and uncertainty.  So I took a moment to think about this crisis:  so what do you do in this situation when you have kids? 

Here are a few things I considered:

1.  Cancel everything.Call my boss, tell her I've dramatically changed my mind, and am staying in my current position. 
2. Cancel some of it. Move, still, but only as far as North Carolina.  Shack up near sis, start again there, and try to battle the economic demands that would probably keep me right where I am today.
3.  Freak out and pursue that other job offer in Bangkok.
4.  Freak out.
5.  Freak out.
6.  Freak out.

Or,
7.  Keep going forward and see what happens. 

After talking with the Superintendant of the BIE schools in that area, who hired me, and hearing how absolutely certain he was that he had the clout and superpowers to expedite the paperwork and would move heaven and earth to get me to the Rez on time, I did something that was really hard.  I put my trust in authority.  Options 1-6 above were mighty tempting, but option 7 really seemed to be the most rationale one.  And besides, the reason I cried in the first place was because my heart broke, because for a little bit there, I was seriously teetering on the side of FUCK THIS I'M NOT GOING THIS IS TOO MUCH TO DEAL WITH. 

I'm writing this in the blog, which thanks for reading by the way (it makes me feel like you're in this with me, friends), because I'm telling you, don't change your life unless you're ready to face the consequences.  There are some big ones, like your husband asking you why you're suddenly having a mid-life crisis, and people stepping back with looks of shock (and you wonder, are they contemplating calling CPS?  Cuz who does this to their kids?), and all those other things.  Like, look around your house.  Would you move now?  Yeesh.

But I'm also saying, if you're willing to take on those consequences because you believe that the promised land on the otherside of ambiguity is really flowing with milk and honey, and not the crap you're slogging through in your present life, then, go for it.  Because living life is more than just taking one breath after the other.  It's about reaching out to friends (shout out, AP, for assuring me we won't be homeless out West), and trusting in others when you are really just a diehard control freak, or acknowledging that giving up the sensation of control can be a relief to some degree, because you're trying to believe in something greater, more competent, than yourself.