If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?
I’ve visited plenty of places where I’ve thought, “It’s a great place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live here.” But lately, I’ve found myself daydreaming about a permanent change of scenery.
The Climate as a Mental Health Hack
I want somewhere warm—definitely somewhere where the word “windchill” isn’t a part of my vocabulary. Growing up, I used to think I hated winter just because it signaled the end of baseball season. But as I got older, I realized it was more than that. I genuinely despise the cold. I can still vividly recall a winter semester back in college—my first real brush with depression—where the darkness and the biting chill nearly convinced me to walk away from my education entirely.
When I lived in South Carolina, I saw the shift firsthand. I joke that I “learned to love the ocean,” but there was a real truth to it: when the sun shines every day, the world feels different. If I were to set up shop in a place like San Diego, the coast would absolutely become my “church”—a place for reflection and the same kind of peace I found at Folly Beach. Moving there would be the ultimate “hack” to keep the seasonal depression at bay.
Choosing the Life I’ve Built
But here is the catch: I’m mature enough now to know this is a “what if” fantasy.
I’ve moved away before, and I know exactly what it costs to be completely detached from your entire support network. It isn’t easy. And, more importantly, life has changed. With Kid 2 still here in Michigan and Kid 1 planting his own roots here in the Great Lakes region, I couldn’t see myself uprooting again.
“Home is where you hang your hat”
Daniel Larusso
I’ve spent years “rebuilding” and learning to choose myself. But part of choosing myself means acknowledging the life I’ve built here—people included. So, while I’ll keep dreaming of that San Diego sun, I’ll take my “100% Policy” and my morning routines, and I’ll keep building my own warmth right here in Michigan, even when the windchill tries to tell me otherwise.
P.S. If you’re wondering why I’m so weary of the ‘clean slate’ myth, I’m diving into the brutal reality of my own ‘big move’ to South Carolina later today. You can find that follow-up post, ‘The South Carolina Era,’ right here.
Rebuilding a life takes grit, consistency, and a lot of ‘Option C’ thinking. Having crossed the 1,000-day milestone, I’m now charting the territory beyond. The mission remains the same: No glitz. Just the work. New to the blog? Start your journey here to see the blueprint and the ‘Tricorder’ perspective behind the rebuild.
Thanks for stopping by Rebuilding Rob. Be sure to like 👍, comment and subscribe below. It’s greatly appreciated! Also, feel free to follow me on social media and check out my recent posts!
- The life we build
- The Art of Moving Slowly: A Field Report on Balancing Impulse and Perseverance
- Embracing the Chaos: Why Flexibility is the Foundation of Any Good Plan
- Weeding the Garden: A Lesson in Boundaries
- Curating the Feed: Why I Don’t Have a Single Favorite Blog
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The article “the life we build” first appeared in Rebuilding Rob.
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