Thinking of Moving in This Market? It's Sedimentary, Dear Watson

Timing a significant life change is not for the faint of heart. Whether it's a job, a move, health needs, or a life commitment, change can be scary. As a change management consultant, I'm devoted to working with organizations and individuals on the cusp of change by paying attention to and imitating Nature. We have been experiencing unprecedented upheaval in the field of environmental advocacy with financial and geopolitical chaos wreaking havoc on our common home. What is happening to our common home, Earth? Some are struggling to articulate their commitment to justice, equity, diversity, and inclusion in the face of existential threats to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. We're all going deeper and looking carefully again at who "We" are, what we value, and how we belong. And it's all tied to where we feel most "at home."

As a realtor, I'm often asked about the state of the market, and when is the right time to move. Making a significant home change in a time of financial uncertainty and geopolitical instability is a frightening proposition. There are certainly financial indicators we can assess and "economic predictions" we might consult, and 2025 Q1 is certainly one for the books. My counsel generally is, "whenever moving meets your family's priorities, life goals and financial needs." Many would rather wait in the current climate, see what happens. Maybe interest rates will come down again. Maybe not. What if the family wage earner's job is eliminated? Maybe a regular income is in jeopardy, or inflation will lead us into recession. Maybe the tariffs are just another bluff. Maybe not. Maybe rising home prices and bidding frenzies will stabilize once inventory is on the rise. Maybe not. Maybe our 401K will get better in time. Maybe not. It's just not clear in this moment of chaos and trade bluster if waiting is advisable. Interest rates will not likely dip lower in the near future. Equity in a home is still a prudent financial mainstay. When to make a move is just not clear for many. It's up in the air.

What is clear - or what most certainly can be made clear - is articulating our family's priorities, life goals, and financial needs. We can turn to Nature-based Solutions (NbS) for help if we feel stuck, or we're not sure what's most important to us as we consider moving. It's sedimentary, Dear Watson! And by that, I mean we can explore petrology- the study of rocks - for solutions.

Earth's surface is comprised of mostly three types of rock. Primarily (about 73%) it is sediment (accumulation or deposition of sediments - organic and mineral deposits), which covers (about 15%) igneous (fire-infused magma that has cooled and solidified) rock, and (about 12%) metamorphic (protolithic rock changing to different forms) rock. What's beautiful about this stratified crustiness is that it teaches us analogically the layered approach to understanding who and what we are, what's important to protect, when to change, and why.

We can look at Earth's three types of surface rock as metaphorical identity and priority markers.

Let's start with the changeling - metamorphic rock - the composition that morphs when heated at elevated temperatures. We might see this as our urgency-indicator. This type of rock is most evident when something happens in our lives, like a significant health change, marriage, birth, graduation, promotion, job relocation, retirement, forced evacuation, natural devastation, geopolitical upheaval, or death in the family. It signifies that change is required. We find at these times something is urging us to shift our perspective. We need to make a move because our circumstances are changing, and we must respond to provide and care for the ones we love. Our home place morphs because our family morphs. Our needs are changing. Things are heating up, and we feel the urgency to shift how we live or where we live. Responding to our metamorphic composition also requires us to look at what's perennial in our lives, what remains stable beneath the surface.

If we think of igneous rock as the fire-embedded stabilizer, it's the type of rock in our composition that grounds us and lights our fire. Most of Earth's extended and oceanic crust is made of igneous rock because it holds water. It's truly sturdy. Think granite or quartz. It's what we take with us no matter where we live or how we morph, our sense of basic identity and philosophy. There are certain relationships, family and friend tethers, perhaps creature-kin, or heirlooms that remain with us and signify we are home. They are the clearest indicators of belonging and protection. These are the lasting bonds that accompany us through every move, every shift in perspective, and every uncertainty because these are the ones that give us our fire, our energy and identity. These are the ones that show our deepest values and priorities. Significant others, kids, parents and grandparents, friends, friends, friends. These comprise the igneous layer of our identity.

Finally, there's sedimentary rock, the mineral and organic deposits that represent what we have accumulated, or what has been deposited in our experience and consciousness. It represents what we've been taught, or have "caught" along the way. This is the type of composition that forms the veneer of who we are, our job titles and earned degrees, our status symbols and portfolios, our interests and causes, the way we present ourselves to the world at large. The sedimentary layer is the dressing, the ribbon and bow. If we are presenting the whole package of who we are, the sedimentary layer will say to those who observe us, "We care about this. We believe in this. We stand for this. We embrace this." Sediment is the wrapping paper, the accessories, the final garnishes on the plate so the dish is tastefully, attractively, and appropriately presented. It can be shifty, at best.

Making a change based on sedimentary foundations might be the least desirable factor for consideration in a risky context. It is important, of course, to dress the part for a job interview, present a house well for selling, or wear the best dress for a promising date. But we normally wouldn't award the job based on the style of shoes, or buy the house with great curb appeal if it's in a sink hole, or continue dating a dweeb with nice threads.

Necessitated change guards and protects the igneous composition - that fire-infused meaning base that keeps motivating us to get out of bed in the morning and do our very best to be good, honorable people. Our significant others, our kids, our parents and grandparents, our friends, friends, friends; these are the mainstays of our igneous composition. We make changes in the context of uncertainty or risk to care for and protect that deeper layer - the ones who ground us every day. They are the best of who we are. Without them, we're lost.

Finally, the metamorphic composition helps us with timing the change. It's the urgency indicator. We pay attention when a plant is most in need of water, sunlight, or soil nutrients. We pay attention when our kid needs orthodonture, unstructured play time outside, or more greens. We pay attention when our canine is howling for attention, or nursing a thorn. We pay attention when Mom and Dad begin forgetting little things, or take a spill, or become unable to perform daily self-care. We pay attention when our significant other says he can't take this job anymore, or that she needs to be near Nature if she is going to get through her chemo. The metamorphic layer teaches us when to note the time is now. If that layer is activated, reach out to begin the process of moving. Then, we take our first, fierce step.

Paying attention to what grounds us, our basic composition, is something we can practice by going deeper, observing, and applying this knowledge to major life decisions. When's the right time to move? It's sedimentary, Dear Watson. It's sedimentary.