I want to talk about something that I and any human being dreads doing. No not taxes, not visiting the in-laws, but moving.
Yes moving. (Ok, so maybe visiting the in-laws is one of the top three dreadful things to do, but for this articles sake, we will stick to moving)
Nothing reminds humans more of our evolution from nomads to modern day hoarders than collecting our junk and moving. I am not talking about extreme hoarding, but a general accumulation of things, that by all means, we can do without, but are hesitant in throwing away.
We are faced with the accumulation of our past. We can be moving from home to home, apartment to home, or just leaving home for the first time. Our need to settle down, nest or move to a better living space, has become a hassle and an event in itself.
During this time, we become more stress, easily frustrated and we try to satisfy our insatiable appetite for boxes. We also become toxic to our friends and family members, because they too know the hassles of moving and know that the next time they see you, you will utter those horrifying words, “Can you help me move?” To be fair, there is a percentage of people who execute a move seamlessly, and to those of you, I salute you. In hindsight, having an organized move is simple, with the right planning and patience, but like most people, life is not that easy to place on hold. I personally have experience moving, (4 times in 5 years), and each time it was an organized chaos.
For some reason, moving day crept up unknowingly, surprising me, unexpectedly. As if I didn’t know when my lease expired, or I didn’t spend the previous month apartment or house hunting, or packing or transferring utilities. No, when the last week of the month had arrived, I would wake up and realized that it was time to load the U-Haul, to pack my belongings and junk that I had collected and move to another dwelling that I would call home temporarily.
In that time, I would encounter, for a lack of a better word, memories. Each and every time, without failure, I would come across the box of trinkets that I associate with a certain period of my past. The sofa that I had kept, even though it didn’t match with any other piece of furniture, shelves and book cases, picture frames, tables, chairs, and mainly junk. From having to constantly move, I had grown accustomed to not grow attached to any particular item. Everything was expandable. No piece of furniture was safe, No dish, bedding or even clothing. This is around the same time I actually clean my refrigerator and discard expired items, leftovers, and other food items that I know I won’t eat. This process reminds me of Toy Story. When they dread being thrown away, or donated or sold at the garage sale. My belongings go through the same ordeal. Secretly I wonder if they talk behind my back, wondering who is not going to make the cut.
But I put myself through this night mare. And Why? After I am done deciding what goes and what stay, after reminiscing about the good times past, and I pack my things, I unpack. Yes unpack. Funny, how right after playing Tetris with your belongings and boxing them, you go right around and unpack them. Trying to settle in. Settling where ever we hope to feel at peace, the new home, apartment, city or new state. We unpack what is ours, what defines us, our style and persona and settle in. Because that is what we do. As humans we feel the need to call some place home. To those of you who already found their little of the American dream, I applaud you, and envy you. I still haven’t found that place. I know that I will be moving in the near future. Looking, hunting, and trying to find a spot of my own. And for that I must pay the price of moving.
I hope everyone has a good and safe weekend.