The Mosh Pit Ballet of a Cross-Country Move

I’ve tried to conform to expectations on this platform, but as a writer my general strength is writing personalized letters and correspondence, and not brief, click-bait essays that get eyes on what I’m saying. In other words — my writing couldn’t be less of a fit for platform-type writing. Whoops! So, you’ll excuse me if I revert to a form of writing that is far more comfortable for me, so I can get something off my chest.

You see, dear reader, I’ve been struggling for around three months to talk about something that is now definitely dictating nearly every thought, and is quickly taking over nearly every moment of my day — which is that Darren and I are moving from Oregon and back to the Rust Belt.

Why Move?

I know. It couldn’t be more opposite, right (unless it was to Florida, and no, we’re not going that far)? We have several compelling reasons to make the move, but I’ll list three, in no order:

Working in Oregon cannabis hasn’t worked out.

Darren fulfilled his desire to work in cannabis, and I did as well, but far less successfully. Every year, Darren would be laid off — for a couple of months to half the year. His income was basically minimum wage, which — again, it’s simply not enough to survive.

In those times when he was laid off, we ate through all of our savings. Before you think ‘But Jamie, you have 30,000 readers on Medium’ allow me to share my earnings here the last few months:

That’s not to say I’m not grateful for the platform and for the readers, but there’s no ‘livable income’ in all of this — the more I felt shoehorned into only writing about cannabis, the less I wrote. Even at my highest earning (I wrote about that here), it wasn’t enough to make an actual living, it was a glorified hobby.

I even put together a business, bank account, all of that, but a lot of the clients that would work with me were only cannabis businesses. Let me tell you a not-so-secret: cannabis businesses often don’t pay in a timely manner at all — and I’m not in a financial position to not get paid, or ‘do things for exposure.’ Or, worse, there would be a promise to pay on time, and then that wouldn’t materialize. The few businesses that respected the work I did and paid on time — I absolutely cherish — but they were in the minority, and it ultimately wasn’t enough to even pay rent, much less survive on.

The fact of the matter is, it’s only going to become more cut-throat in cannabis here in Oregon. Between the difficulty of regulations, the continued challenges in banking and 280e regulations, and the ongoing struggles for businesses to get paid — it’s only going to get worse. I’m just not in the financial position to continue to hope to find a place in the market, and even if I could, the chances of it being a position that paid a comfortable wage are getting lower and lower.

Here’s the entry level hourly wage for a position as a budtender in Portland, and the sort of housing someone in that position could afford (if it was full time).

While I was using Medium to build my portfolio, I was simultaneously getting shut out of doing articles and writing about topics that had longevity for career for me. Non-cannabis businesses don’t always want to work with those who worked in cannabis. The fact of the matter is, while cannabis businesses are allowed, they aren’t protected. It’s not actually socially accepted. If it was, it wouldn’t be included on pre-employment drug screens.

Oregon is far too expensive for us to live here.

When we first moved here, our apartment was a bit over $800 a month. It is now $1200 a month and will be $1400 a month next year. Gas is over $4 a gallon. It’s not sustainable for us to stay. Like I said — all we’ve done is have some great experiences, meet some great people — and eat through our savings.

Don’t believe me? Here’s the Google stub from when I search for “Oregon expensive.”

You’re welcome for our money, Oregon.

Our family is back east.

This is the big one — there’s no surmounting it. I’ve made a couple of friends here, but not many — not enough to overcome the fact that our family is back east. Without a career reason to stay — and Darren and I haven’t found meaningful work at all — missing them and missing out on their lives feels futile.

There are the reasons — there are many more, but those are the most compelling.

What’s it like to move across the country?

I joke that I’m like Sam Beckett from Quantum Leap — I’m always hoping my next leap will be the leap home. In other words: I’ve moved a lot. Once you move around a lot, you get used to two things:

You can’t take it all with you.

You might also think “how can you afford it” and well, friends, I honestly can’t, but using things like U-haul (U-Boxes are the most budget friendly way to move — we used them to get here, and we’re using them to get back) helps (and no, I’m not sponsored by U-Haul! I wish!). We don’t have an apartment where we’re going yet, so the fact it’s $99 a box to store them for a month is also a huge financial help.

That means, however, that we have to fit everything possible into those two boxes — and everything else is either going to be given away, donated, or sold at cut rate amounts.

The other day I was talking to a friend of mine on the phone — he’s another experienced mover — and I said that right now I’m at the ‘caterpillar turns to goop before becoming a butterfly’ stage of the move and I stand behind that description. It can be really hard to choose to let go of some things that have meant a lot to me while here — but sometimes, change is necessary.

At some point, you have to turn over the keys and leave, and you probably won’t feel ready for that.

I’ve moved upwards of 30 times in my 47 years on earth, and the thing that stands out to me is that I’ve never felt ready, I don’t think I ever really was ready, and the last few days are always a frantic sprint towards a scary finish line.

I’ve come to peace with that feeling of utter chaos.

What Did I Learn?

Oregon has been wonderful in teaching me who I am and what I value, and what I’m looking for. I’m not a person who was born with the answers, a plotted path, or a direction — I’ve been seeking those things since my first thoughts came together. But here, I’ve learned so much about myself. While I was hoping to find a job, I ultimately didn’t. But I used the time to hone and refine skills — and learn new ones. Since moving to Oregon, I’ve learned how to spin wool into yarn, weave yarn into cloth, and sew cloth. I’m no longer restricted to just crochet or knit — I have all sorts of making abilities. I’ve created a business, got a business bank account, opened another business and had it fail nearly immediately. I’ve invested time in my writing, the skill I’ve always wanted to invest in.

Most importantly, I’ve learned part of what I want from this life.

And I know that right now, my ability to reach what I want is restricted by where I am.

This won’t be the last move I make, but I’m hoping that it’s the most productive, and I’m hoping that this leap brings me this much closer to home.

Thanks for reading,

jamie