Small steps
I hate packing.
I love shedding myself of the extraneous, unnecessary, annoying possessions that follow me from place to place with no clear purpose or emotional value.
Over the last year’s worth of moving, I’ve managed to do both rather well. This move feels like it will allow me to get it down to a fairly satisfactory level of simplicity. I’ve already gone through a trunkload of donations, and I’ll add this monster of a desk and a few other items to that list this weekend.
I’m looking forward to starting fresh with a new roommate, but I also fear that all the old habits I’ve learned will follow me. I’m shedding some – joining the ARC and starting a weekly therapy session have been tremendous improvements in my mental well-being – and I’m working on others. Every so often I find myself looking at my life and thinking, simply, “oh.” Oh in the sense of “oh, so this is what adulthood is, it’s not that different from what I had before except there are more bills and more worries.” Oh as in “oh, this is it? This is all I’ve been waiting for?” It’s reassuring and unsatisfactory – that I’m not off-target, but I’m still not who and what I’d like to become. Every cycle I get a little bit closer, though.
Each time I make the pledge to live a little more fully, see more places, go on more adventures, I get better at it. I just need to keep reminding myself of that pledge, and not let myself chicken out.
As I said though, getting better.
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