"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible." ~ T. E. Lawrence
Moving day, well, more to the point, moving month for me. Putting my few earthly belongings into boxes over this weekend has allowed me more than enough pensive time, so pensive I have been. Ever noticed how going through your possessions can make you reminisce, bring thoughtfulness, and nostalgia? That was the weekend for me.
I realized that I’ve lived in my place for 2 years, the longest that I’ve been stationary in one home since I was 15! It started when I moved to Alaska, graduating high school and then moving in with my aunt for a year. After that I joined Youth With A Mission in Oregon, traveled around Southeast Asia for 2 months and eventually ended up back in beautiful Bellingham, Washington. I’ve since hopped houses, staying in one spot for no more than a year, until now.
After such frequent moving I have to admit I got used to living out of my suitcase. Buying a car was a major move towards being steady, and buying a couch for my house made me feel as if I was losing my freedom: the freedom to pick up and go wherever and whenever I wanted. Buying furniture seemed like a surrender of all that, strange as it might sound. Even now, most my belongings are books and clothes – and I prefer it that way.
I’ve learned to live lean. The possessions I own are the ones I use and enjoy. Packing was a chance to relive some memories. I came across the ebony elephant I got from Thailand, the camel carved from olive wood that came back with me from Jordan, the matroshka doll I got in Russia – treasures because there are experiences and stories behind them. I packed away books from my childhood: The Velveteen Rabbit, The Chronicles of Narnia, and When We Were Very Young, to name a few. It brought back memories of my beautiful mother with her long, dark hair reading books to me for hours in her calm, kind voice. I’m tired after some of this packing, but its been a good weekend full of lovely thoughts.
I’m sad to leave my house, with its beautiful built-in bookshelves, fabulous view of the bay, with its location just 2 miles from my favorite running trails, 3 miles from the stunning brick facades of our historic district, and 3 miles the other way from the culinary bliss that is offered downtown. It’s a great home and I’ll miss it.
This move involves giving away some of my independence, something I value highly. I’ve lived on my own, without roommates, for the past 3 years and I love it. An introvert and a homebody to the core, my home has been my haven. Now, I’m moving in with BF and his family. He stays there to care for his grandmother part-time and his family have invited me to take over their spare bedroom and bathroom rent-free if I also help care for the grandma when I can. This works, but it’s a challenge, a stretching moment.
My end goal of this move is to save enough to buy a home of my own in two years time. Here’s the contradiction: wanting to buy a home when I don’t even know how settled I want to be, when I get nervous about buying furniture. But I think a home is a worthy financial goal regardless. It’s a new idea for this gypsy, and a frightening thought at times, but a great dream all the same.
So here’s to making some sacrifices, to dreaming bigger and scarier, and to living lean – with many books and a few meaningful mementos!