Three hundred sixty six days (3 hundred 66 days) is a year of my life I am devoting to month-long social experiments. Check out “About threehundredsixtysixdays” above for more details. Thank you for joining me on this journey! Update: I have … Continue reading
I’m sorry I haven’t written on the blog in awhile. I haven’t really being doing anything of my normal routine lately: partly to do with the upset with my agent, but mostly because I just moved in with my boyfriend.
Moving. Man, it’s hard. It’s really hard. It’s harder than anyone ever remembers it being. I think we all block it out once we’re in a new place. It shouldn’t come as a shock how difficult it is, but for some reason it always does. How do I have so much stuff? What do I keep? What do I give away? Then of course there is the actual act of packing, moving, then unpacking. I know this is a first-world, middle-class problem. I’m ashamed that I have so much. (Although most of it is used, hand-me-downs, so I feel a little better that I’m helping keep things out of the landfills.) Seriously, how did I accumulate so much in four years?
It’s overwhelming all this “stuff”. It weighs me down physically and mentally. Part of me would love to just get rid of it all and live with only a couple of suitcases worth of belongings like I did for many years when I moved to England, then to Vancouver, then to Australia. Do I really need all of this?
Probably the worst thing in this particular move is moving into my boyfriend’s apartment when he already has his rooms full. I will never ever move into a boyfriend’s apartment again. I’m trying to carve out my own space, but it just feels like I’m staying over and never going home. Besides the fact that he’s been away on business since I’ve officially been living here. It feels like I’m house-sitting in a way.
It will be better when he gets back and we can figure out together where things can go. There are stills boxes everywhere and an extra couch we are trying to get rid of that I have to step over to get around. I am living in a maze in which the walls could possibly fall over on me.
I know it’s just “stuff”. Things aren’t important. People are. Love is. Experiences are. The way we live our lives is important. Things are just objects. They shouldn’t affect me so much. I know that logically, but those things are overwhelming me right now and it’s affecting everything in my life. I need my sanctuary, and I know I will find it here, it will just take a little time and a little more unpacking. And getting rid of some more of this “stuff”.
Today I took my first few steps, did yoga for the first time since I moved in, wrote this blog, cleaned a space for myself in his apartment that I can write in and feel like it’s mine. Today seems a little brighter than it was yesterday (and it is literally sunny out, while yesterday was rainy: pathetic fallacy?). There are tons of sayings about if you don’t take the first steps, you can’t ever get anywhere. I’m taking the first steps to get my life back on track. Today I decide not to be overwhelmed by the “stuff” and to do something about it.