I spend a lot of my days talking about what's next.

What's the next house? When should we list? Where do you want to move? What's the five-year plan? What are we working toward?

And honestly, I love those conversations. There's something exciting about having a goal and figuring out how to get there. But lately, I've been thinking about how easy it is to spend so much time looking ahead that we forget to look around.

Especially in the summer.

Every year, summer feels like it's going to last forever. There are plans to make, places to go, trails to hike, books to read, and evenings we're definitely going to spend outside.

Then somehow it's August.

The days are already starting to feel a little shorter, the calendar is filling up, and I'm once again wondering how summer managed to move quite that fast.

It makes me think about how often we do the same thing with life.

We're always working toward something. A new job. A bigger goal. A different house. More money. The next vacation. The next season where things will finally slow down.

There's nothing wrong with wanting more for yourself or being excited about what's ahead. I hope I never stop setting goals or dreaming about what's next.

But I also don't want to be so focused on getting somewhere else that I miss how good some of the ordinary moments are right now.

Living in the Shenandoah Valley makes that a little easier to remember.

Sometimes it's a Jeep ride with the windows down and good music playing. Sometimes it's catching a sunset over the mountains, spending an afternoon by the river, finding a trail you haven't hiked before, or grabbing ice cream in one of our little towns.

Sometimes it's driving the same road you've driven a hundred times, looking over at the mountains, and still thinking, I can't believe I get to live here.

None of those things are particularly big.

But maybe that's the point.

We tend to think the big milestones are what make a life: buying the house, getting the promotion, taking the trip, reaching the goal.

And those things absolutely matter.

But I think a lot of what makes a life feel like ours happens in between them.

It's the familiar places. The people we spend our time with. The view on the drive home. The restaurant where they know our order. The porch we sit on after a long day. The community we've slowly become part of without even realizing it.

Maybe that's what home really is.

Of course, I spend a lot of time helping people find houses, and I love getting to be part of those big moments. There's nothing quite like handing someone the keys to their first home or helping someone close one chapter so they can start another.

But a house by itself isn't what creates the feeling we're all searching for.

We do.

Over time.

In all those little, ordinary moments that don't feel particularly important while they're happening.

So yes, keep dreaming about what's next.

Make the plans. Set the goals. Save for the house. Plan the move. Book the trip. Keep working toward whatever it is that's been sitting in the back of your mind.

Just remember to look around every once in a while, too.

Because someday, the season you're in right now might be one of the ones you wish you could come back to.

And maybe, just maybe, a little piece of the life you're working so hard to find is already here. 🤍

 

Amber Fleck | Realtor at HomeGrown Real Estate

amber.fleck@homegrownreva.com

540.273.6673