I have a love hate relationship with moving. While it’s exciting to say goodbye to one location and skip on to the next – the whole relocating, cleaning, lifting and hauling part of the move is, well exhausting. Plus every time I move I can’t believe how much stuff I have. I keep telling myself – I don’t need this much stuff…I don’t need this much stuff – but then struggle to get rid of anything. Why are we as people so attached to our belongings?
The word in itself opens so many questions to how we live. Our stuff doesn’t make the home, yet we associate our things with a sense of not only self but how we fit into the world. We strive to be accepted and we think we will belong through our belongings. But I believe most of us out there can attest to the fact that our things don’t tend to help in anyway. My huge pile of shoes refuses to keep me company when I’m lonely and my already read books fail to re-read themselves.
For the past 5 years I have moved 9 times and each time I am surprised by the amount of stuff I have accumulated. Some items hold distinct memories while others keep an occasional use – but in the end all of my items just take up space and empty time. And somehow each time I move, my space keeps getting smaller and smaller.
The one facet of moving that I do enjoy though is the re-organizing of all my furniture and belongings. I even used to redecorate and relocated items in my room when I was grounded as a kid just because I enjoy it as a distressing activity. But everything leading up to that step, in my book, could disappear – everything should just teleport from one place to the next.
Moving each time though does offer a new start and new look on the same world. It is as if moving into a new space allows you to change just a bit too. This round I only moved a half block down the road from a three bedroom to two bedroom apartment, but I’m hoping to take with me a renewed look on my situation and self. Each move is like celebrating the new years, time for new resolutions and at least an attempt for change – just without the fireworks (unless you count the booming sound of dropping a load of crafting supplies down a flight of stairs similar to the fiery blasts of the holiday).
So here’s to relocating one more time, attempting to down size, re-organizing not only my space but my soul, and moving on.