Though it was slightly more than 14 years ago, I remember quite vividly a significant walk I took. I rolled into Ann Arbor, parked the car, and began making a trek up Washington Street toward downtown. This was my first time here, and there was something about the energy of this place. As I looked around me, even in that brief span of time that I was walking, I could see so much possibility. I could imagine a life here.
That’s when I asked, “How long have I been here?”
Twenty minutes had passed. I said aloud, “It took me 20 minutes to know I would move here.”
This was, in fact, a fact-finding mission. Was this somewhere a life could be built? A new chapter, perhaps one that would span a long stretch of time? I knew what I wanted, but it actually took a couple of attempts to get here. The first possibility completely fell through and left me disoriented. But then a second possibility emerged, also disorienting in how quickly it came together. Gratefully, this one worked.
Exactly one year to the day of that first visit, I rolled into town again, but this time as someone who had just moved here.
It has been a long chapter. This place has brought me relationships, nature, and a host of memories, along with so many restaurants, parks, and shops. I’ve ridden my bike almost 5,000 miles in this town in the last three and a half years. There has been much to explore. There has been much to deepen inside me. Sometimes when I walk up Washington Street, I remember that first visit all over again.
Yesterday, though, I was on my bike, traveling in the opposite direction, down Washington Street. And I found myself reflecting on it all again, with gratitude.
I’m looking to 2027 with some excitement and anticipation. Sometimes dreams take a while to percolate. Sometimes there are closed doors and open doors along the way, and we don’t always know how things will unfold. But even though we live in a time that feels precarious, I still find myself excited about some of the possibilities. I’m still a dreamer.
And I think back to that first walk up Washington Street, when I could already imagine a life here, even though I had no idea how it would unfold. And of course, these years haven’t all been rosy. There have been some significant challenges along the way, too. But I’m grateful for the life I’ve built here, the people who are part of it, and so much that these years have brought. They propel me to more dreaming.
Have you ever had one of those “this could be it” moments? What did you sense, and what became of it? How are you in relationship with it now?
—Renee Roederer
