The World spins at a pretty good clip. Life transitions are hard no matter what your age.

Because if you are content, comfortable in the place you park under the sunshine overhead, why do we have to stop the music? Need to change it up? You don’t. No matter if all the chatter from close friends are raising a stink, thinking you should.

Everyone else is an expert at how to run your life.

Just ask them. Their own, well, not so much.

Maine Mountain Hiking Trails, Does A Body Good.
Negative People Are Not Mountain Climbers. Get High Up, Surround Yourself With Positive People.
There is constant pressure squeezing out of the eerie glowing device “tube” and speakers too. Marketing something that will radically change your life for three easy, one not so simple last payment. To show you a new jig. To dance differently than you do now.

Happy. It is a seed that germinates. Not a sliver that festers.

Nurturing, not neglecting. Being in that place where joy and contentment, all American apple pie normal happens. Or as close to it as can muster. Juggling your other priorities allows.

Ah but at the same time. What is best for you in your life here and now changes. Like raising kids, you just get this stage figured out and there they go, moving to the next phase.

And also something inside you grows and priorities shift independently of those near, dear and loved surrounding you. What was so all mighty important makes way, drops from formation. For something new to have room to grow replacing it. C.S Lewis too reminds…

“It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.”

Decent, moral, what is good or bad, right or wrong adds another channel to mix into the music levels.

Maine Small Town Politics, Keeping The Peace.
Keeping Small Maine Town’s Running Smoothly. Calm Is Nice, But Ripples Happen.
Your core values, integrity are challenged daily in what you hold dear. What defines you. But questioned round the clock with too many view points.

Boats loads of opinion, pretty dark judgement. Individuals one by one on the blue and green marble raising their hands, opening their pie hole traps. Hunting and peck like moi aussi mais qui.

To offer more sharp rough edged cutting opinions when maybe too many already clutter the landscape.

Hot under the collar, steam out the ears. Somehow feeling threatened. Screeching, scolding, preaching “people don’t get it, you don’t understand, life’s not fair, you got it all wrong people” whining themes.

Life on the small Maine farm was all about being highly industrious and geared for survival. Keep if simple.

But with modern society freed up with the latest and greatest devices and hired out services, more time to develop boredom inside arrived on the scene.

Maine Is Outdoors, Using Only Natural Ingredients.
Maine Living, All Natural. Rock Solid Simple. Not Used To Judge, Stone.

One Atom Twelve, see the suspect with the blank deer in the headlights glassed over thousand yard stare.

Please be advised. Proceed with caution as he or she is considered unstable, unpredictable right now. Over. (Mic sharp click, static white noise heard, fades up and under. Fade to black.)

Like the Venn diagram, overlaps of the children, marriage, job, health, retirement and other responsibilities shape the life landscape for any of us right?

There are choices, input needed to be dialed in to the course heading of where you should be pointed. Or to avoid road rash, rope burns from being dragged hooked to barbed wire if you don’t just let go. Just say no more.

Some people just get through life easier and make their own luck. Strenghtened by events. Not charmed just relaxed, enjoying life. Accepting others, not trying to tame them with a whip and chair.

Something, whatever is eating at you, missing in your life causes the tightening the buckle or canvas ring on the girth.

Neck reining the mare, gelding or stallion sharply. And making a cloud of dust behind you. High tailing it out of the steep stone wall boxed canyon.

With a shrill whistle, hands raised high as if barrel raising clock timed. Putting the boots to the ribs. For the long ride back to take a different fork in the road. Presenting itself if you have faith and patience. Open your eyes, heart, window and doors of the soul. Remove the blinders that keep you in the self inflicted darkness of just plain scared. Not so sure. Afraid of making any or too many wrong moves.

Maine is small towns, simple living. Outdoor space.
On A Mission, Mainers Are Busy Bees But Enjoy More Space, Less People In The Natural Beauty.

As you radar sweep blips into the region labeled “Fear of the unknown”.

That replaces the routine of apathetic or just dog gone depressed but easy and predictable. There is no antidote to quick fix get drunk on to remedy this quagmire. Soul search, pair up with a cowboy or girl who ride into that sunset together. Compare notes around the same prairie camp fire. Slurping a spoon stands up in the middle of the tin trail cup coffee or two. Before retiring propped up against a Western saddle, under the blanket that separates if from horse and rider during the daylight jog.

What am I suppose to do is easier if you search for answers contained inside. Surrounding yourself with positive people you trust to compare notes. And being kind to you instead of fifty mental lashes for failing to believe in yourself, live your own life in the move to Maine. Less people, more drop dead gorgeous natural beauty, no traffic, little crime, four seasons. All contribute to make Maine a place where it is quiet enough to be able to think, hear your much needed answers to how to lead your life best.

I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker