I don't think you could find one person that enjoys moving. Sure, living in a new city, navigating new streets, and experiencing new challenges has it's draws. But I'm talking about the packing up of belongings, putting them on a truck, and physically taking them someplace else. That part's not fun.
On this eve of a new adventure I'm thinking about tons of things, but what I just can't get out of my mind is how much I dislike stuff. People who know me, know I'm not a lover of stuff. I feel bogged down by too much of it and quickly want to weed through what is necessary and what is dead weight. However, there's nothing quite like moving to truly make to stare down all your stuff in the face. Right now, I feel like my stuff is against me, and we just aren't getting along.
Being the way I am, 30, single, frugal and a free spirit, means that most of my stuff are hand-me-downs. Much of the stuff that I own doesn't have much value and I'm sure I only use about 10% of it on a regular basis. I realize I may be being overly dramatic, but it's all relative. I just filled a 10x5 room with my stuff of a lifetime and the thought of it sitting there gets under my skin. I realize people have entire houses full plus basements and attics and even storage units. For me, though I'm thankful for that room, it's also my own personal hell.
The way I am feeling about this stuff finally helps me to solidify what I had been trying to solidify for a long time. The stuff you collect in life has such little value, what is valuable is your numerous relationships. This leads me to the second thing I have been thinking a lot about. I can hardly comprehend the outpouring of love that has come my way by all the people in my life when hearing that I am making this journey. Those are the things I will be missing the most, are the toughest to leave, and will be most eager to get back to when it's time to come home. While I find myself wanting to chuck away almost all of my belongings, I find myself wanting to hold onto those relationships with every fiber of my being.