Indecision & Uncertainty

 

Matt and I need to make a firm decision about the property/house situation. We've extended our option period three times (which means we would lose $200 if we backed out). We've also already paid about $1,300 for a soil sample. We're definitely on the path toward purchasing land and building a house, but I am overwhelmed with indecision. 

I think part of the problem is the relative permanence of this decision. We would essentially be building one of the most expensive houses in the neighborhood, which is never a good financial move. If anything happened (e.g., my school didn't receive permission from the state to open, the school location ends up not being in the neighborhood I thought it would be, we feel too unsafe in the neighborhood, etc.), then it would be pretty difficult to sell our house quickly without losing a significant amount of money. 

On the other hand, if we scrap this vision, I want to have a clear vision of what we're working toward. Are we going to spend a couple years renting and saving up money to purchase a more expensive house near the greenbelt or river trail? Would the daily commute up and down I-35 drive us mad?

Have we even been in Austin long enough to form an opinion about the best place for us to live in terms of building community, feeling safe, minimizing our commute to work, locating ourselves near our recreational preferences, and finding something we can afford?

Am I simply feeling insecure because this step would take so much courage? I would basically be saying: "I am starting a school here. I am putting down roots in this community. We are raising our family here. We are committed to this place and this community." 

Or am I insecure about the finances? A little life might be sprouting within me, which means we are looking at thousands of dollars in medical care (we want to do another home birth with midwife + doula), plus thousands of dollars in additional daycare fees for a second child, plus we just wrote a $10,900 check for Henry's ten months of Montessori school starting this August (which does not factor in his daycare fees for the rest of the summer or the fees for summer daycare the following summer). Oy vey. 

I try to engage Matt in this overwhelming decision, but he's growing weary of the round and round discussion of all the pros and cons. He says he's adaptable and amenable to pretty much any option. We spent some time this weekend exploring other options for ourselves. We found a 3.2-acre horse farm with a pre-existing house that backs up to a golf course and state park for only $230,000 (which includes two horses). That caught our attention, but I ultimately think we would feel lonely out there, unless we could subdivide the land and invite other people to build out there, too. We also scoured dozes of photos of houses closer in town, but we weren't impressed by much of what we saw (since we have our minds stuck on a wide, open house with lots of natural light). 

What's the story we want to be able to tell about our lives a year from now? 

We live in a modern, light-filled home with bamboo floors and glass everywhere that overlooks greenery. We have two chickens, a bloodhound, and two kids. We have a giant sectional couch, and we spend our time gathered around as a family. We're saving up money to build a small pool in our backyard. I'm opening a school in a year and a half, and it will be an 8-minute commute from our house. Matt is only 5.5 miles away from his office. Lots of families from the neighborhood are signed up to enroll in the school. We are friends with other young families. We are in the process of planning neighborhood events to build community and connection. We can walk to the park, which has tons of shade, tennis courts, and a creek running through it. On the weekends, it's a 20-minute car ride to the trails around the lake or to a greenbelt for hiking. We're only ten minutes away from downtown. 

There are other compelling stories we could write for our family, but I'm not sure if they would have all the requisite components. We could live in a safer neighborhood, but then we wouldn't be able to build our own home (the land would be too expensive), and we would have to commute farther to school and work every day. We could move to a cabin in Vermont, but then Henry wouldn't get the kind of public Montessori education we want him to have, and I would seriously suffer from Seasonally Affective Disorder.

I'm starting to realize that committing to a vision is hard because I am essentially saying no to all the alternate visions that I would also enjoy. By deciding to open a school in Austin, I am essentially saying no to all the other cities and countries out there. It also means that we are saying no to formal co-housing, which does not yet exist in Austin. By trying to minimize my commute, I am saying no to rural living. I am saying no to part-time work. I am saying no to working from home and enjoying a flexible schedule. I am saying no to relaxed evenings at home.

That's a lot to say no to!

But I have to remind myself that I am saying yes to meaningful and purposeful work. I am saying yes to committing to children for eleven years at a time (the school will be preK-3 through 8th grade). I am saying yes to building a team of smart, passionate educators. I am saying yes to creating a home that feels like a sanctuary in a neighborhood that has a lot of opportunity for connection and community. I am saying yes to three seasons outside (and one season in the pool). I am saying yes to weekend hikes and hidden creeks. I am saying yes to outdoor music concerts held at local farms. I am saying yes to an over-abundance of dog-friendly restaurants. 

And there's still time for other visions to take shape, too. This might be the vision for the next 20 years and then it might be time to form a new vision (on a lake?).

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