As a gardener, I can’t help but compare my move abroad to transplanting a plant. And even if you aren’t planning a move abroad, certain times in your life require you to uproot yourself and move into new ground–at least metaphorically. Consider where you are at this moment in your life. Are you feeling restricted? Lonely? Bored? Empty? Maybe it’s time for some new digs–literally or figuratively. But how do you shift? How do you get from one point in your life to a completely different place?

Step 1: Assess Your Current Condition

Before I repot a plant or move it in the garden, I look at its health and ask myself (and the plant, too) if it’s happy where it is. Is it getting enough sun? Too much sun? Is it rootbound? Does it need more space to spread out? How is the soil–old and tired with no nutrients?

Before I moved to Ecuador, I did a similar evaluation of my life. I finally admitted that the hot, humid South was not a good environment for my health. Increasing inflation was taking a toll on my finances and, consequently, on my stress levels and mental health. I had one close friend in my neighborhood, and a few more a couple of hours away, but my son’s life was increasingly busy, and I lived two-three hours from my other family. I was feeling lonely and trapped. Luckily, my business had transitioned completely online during Covid and was doing well, and I realized I could work from anywhere with high-speed internet. I knew my life could be more. But not if I didn’t make some changes.

Now I’m not saying you have to move to another continent or even another house or apartment. Sometimes the assessment of your life is completely internal, and you realize that you are living too small. You need to expand mentally, emotionally, or spiritually. Coming to the epiphany that you have completed one role in your life gives you the confidence to say, “What’s next?” and start loosening those roots that have held you in place for too long. Maybe you figuratively need more space, more air, more light. You know you’re ready for something different. Just recognize that longing in your belly or in your heart (wherever you feel the truth in your body). That’s the first step toward change.

Step 2: Find Your New Place

When a plant needs a new home, I do some research and/or follow my instincts on where it may want to grow and bloom best in the garden, or I search for just the right pot to serve as a new home. I choose the soil carefully and amend it as needed. I make sure the plant will have enough room and won’t crowd its neighbors. I use the companion planting books Carrots Love Tomatoes and Roses Love Garlic to see where the new plant can benefit its neighbors and where its nearby residents can benefit it most.

I did similar research before making my transition from the U.S. to Ecuador. People ask me all the time why I chose Ecuador and how I knew it was the right place and the right time, and I’ve written some about how I learned to follow my own spiritual guidance to live with intention. We all answer our individual calls to adventure in unique ways. But after I assessed where I was in my life and was honest with myself about what I wanted next, it wasn’t too difficult to start moving in that direction. In fact, before Ecuador was a serious possibility and before the housing market in Northwest Arkansas was going crazy, I had already started shifting my business and working with a professional organizer to clear my house of unwanted stuff.

You may have been toying with the idea of making a huge leap in your life already. Perhaps reading this blog is just the final push you need to encourage you to start creating a new life. Write down as specifically as you can exactly what you want your life to look like right now. What does it look like five years from now? That’s enough. Then, set the intention. Ask God, the Universe, your Guides, your Higher Self–whatever you relate to–to help you, give you signs that you’re on the right track. Hire a life coach to help you. Then, just start loosening your hold on the life you’ve been growing in and prepare to put down roots in a new place, a new job, a new relationship, a new way of being in the world.

Step 3: Minimize Risk and Trauma

When I transplant a plant in the garden, I try to gauge how far out from the plants the roots go so that I don’t cut through them with the shovel. Maybe I’m weird, but I’ve read The Secret Life of Plants, and I know they are conscious beings, so I tell the plant what my intentions are. I dig down and gently lift the plant from its place with as much dirt as possible in place. If I’m transplanting a potted plant, I talk to the plant and explain what I’m doing, especially if it’s rootbound and I have to tug (or cut) the pot off. I gently loosen the roots so they can spread out in their new home.

Transitions are naturally traumatizing. And life is full of them: marriages, divorces, births, deaths. I had traveled quite a bit as an adult and moved a lot as a child, but I had never lived abroad. As with the plants, I talked to myself a lot. Reiki helped me get rid of the negative self-talk over the years, but I’ve found that I also need encouraging words (Words of Affirmation is one of my love languages). I look at myself in the mirror and smile at myself. Seriously. And sometimes I add things like, “You are so smart. You can do this,” or “I’m so proud of you!” Luckily, I live alone, and my cats don’t judge me. I also talked with my loved ones and let them express their concerns so we could address them together. Of course, I was sad to move far away by myself, but during the rough times, I kept remembering their words. My Uncle Tommy told me, “Karen Renee, I’m not worried about you at all. You never could have done the things you have done in your life if you weren’t smart as a whip.” My son told me, “Mom. It’s your time. Go!” My brother said, “You’ve always made friends easily, and you always land on your feet. And if you don’t like it, fuck it. Come back.” I love my family.

Maybe you have some good support, too. If not, borrow some of mine. Tell yourself some of these positive statements. Honestly, I think deep down we know that we are capable human beings. Life just beats us up sometimes. Try to remember a teacher or a friend who encouraged you in the past. You simply need at least one other person who at any point in your life helped you see how smart and strong you really are. Make a list of all the difficult challenges you have already overcome in your life. Give yourself some credit. Be gentle with yourself. Give yourself permission to spread those roots out a little.

Step 4: Water Well

In the garden, my mother taught me to do the “gardener’s stomp” around a newly transplanted plant. The purpose of this strange dance is to remove any air pockets around the roots of the plants. You don’t just throw the plant into a hole and pile some dirt on top. You add a little dirt and then a little water, which will help the dirt settle into those little tiny spaces around the roots. They need to be surrounded by that nourishing soil and some moisture in order to thrive and grow. You press that dirt into place and add a little more, repeating the process until the hole is completely filled. The last pressing is done with the feet gently “stomping” around the plant, almost like a welcoming ritual dance: “Here is your new home.” With a potted plant, the process is the same, only done with the fingers and hands.

I suppose my actual move was metaphorically similar. I found a place to move and brought my lifeline roots with me: my cats, some clothes, my most important art and sentimental knick-knacks that could fit in my suitcase, my medications and C-PAP machine. I taught my technologically challenged friend how to use WhatsApp so we could talk once a week. My condo came furnished, but I needed my metaphorical water to help me settle in and “take hold” in my new location. The first purchases were two paintings and eight big house plants. Leafy beings and art nourish me. They comfort me–almost as much as cats. As I settled in, I became comfortable in my new surroundings, welcoming some new friends. I’ve been here six months now, and I feel snug and cozy, ready to thrive.

You will need to be watered well in your new place of being, too. Make a plan about how you will nourish yourself as you transition to your new life. What will help you settle in and feel at home? Of course, physical objects and living beings help if we can take them with us. But what else nourishes you? For example, I knew I would go out and participate in something new that I love once I arrived. That has turned out to be Zumba classes for me. What feeds your spirit? Do that.

Step 5: Grow

The last step in transplanting is simply growing. Plants seem to do that so easily. They simply draw what they need from the soil and water and reach toward the light. They continually shed what no longer serves them. They can use some help removing spent flowers, and sometimes they need some support to help them as they climb. But life is about change and growth. Plants just continue the cycle.

I plan to do the same. I’m spreading my roots out, exploring the hidden chambers of rock and dirt and water, reaching deeper into this life. I’m seeking the Light. I’m grounded. I’m breathing in what I need from the fresh air. And I intend that all I exhale in return be of service to other beings with whom I share this planet. I’m noticing that growing doesn’t have to be a struggle. Not when you’re transplanted into the right place.

Whether your new place is a new home, a new job, a new relationship, or a new role as mentor or grandparent–I send you blessings. As each of us pursues our path and finds our own happiness, the world can transform into the garden it dreams of becoming once again.